A Willing Heart (aka The Line of Durin)
by Leona2016
Summary: Thorin Oakenshield lives but his nephews perished. Robbed of heirs the Line of Durin is all but broken unless the last surviving descendant fathers a son. Will the grieving King still struggling with Dragon Sickness be able to open his heart to love? And if he does, will the object of his desires return it? [Thorin, OC], Dís, Balin, Dwalin, Bofur, Dain (post-BotFA).
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer

I do not own The Hobbit and its characters.

This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter I**

HE was alive. Barely. Yet alive. Thorin Oakenshield had reclaimed the Lonely Mountain. Had ousted Smaug the Fire Drake from the greatest of Dwarven Kingdoms rightfully his and lived to tell the tale. Had had Dragon Sickness infest his heart and mind, nearly succeeding to corrupt his very soul. Had been deaf to the council of his trusted friends and blind to the loyalty of his kin. Had unleashed a terrible war and yet survived the ensuing Battle of the Five Armies. He was alive. Barely. Yet Alive. And it troubled him.

He remembered little of the days following the carnage that had taken place at the very doorstep of his beloved Erebor. But every night in his feverish dreams he would revisit what memories of it he still possessed. He would see again the cruel murders of his Sister-sons by that honorless Orc filth that had vowed to wipe out Durin's bloodline. And he had nearly ended it that day. There were now no heirs to the throne. He was the last of the Royal Family that had for many centuries dwelled in the Lonely Mountain. He had regained the Crown, but fate it seemed was not without a bitter irony as it left him utterly alone with a right to rule he could no longer pass on.

In those dreams he would also see before him the Pale Orc, gliding through the freezing water, pitiless eyes boring through the ice, locking him into a battle that was over. And yet he could not look away. It seemed he was doomed to endlessly drift along in pursuit of his enemy. Even in his waking hours he could not forget. Although the pain in his chest was subsiding, it would return when he would least expect it, sharp stabs of it that made him double over and gasp for air as he felt the ghost of Azog the Defiler's rugged blade pierce once again through his flesh, skewering his lung and shattering his ribs.

In his disturbed sleep he would again stand on the edge of that frozen waterfall, look out on a world on fire as huge, winged creatures loomed overhead, their shadows gliding over him as they dominated the sky. He could feel his strength draining with every ragged breath until his knees buckled and he collided hard with the ice. Could still hear the gurgling and wheezing sound as he had coughed up blood -the strong ironish taste of which he swore he could still detect in his mouth- as his chest heaved up and down costing him the greatest effort. Lastly he remembered the Hobbit's face, hovering close to his own. Could recall with vivid clarity how Bilbo's hands had cradled his head with tears welling up in his eyes and he had begged for his friend's forgiveness before his own vision had faded. Before darkness had enveloped him.

But death had not come. The blackness had been penetrated first by hushed whispers and urgent voices, then by a pungent smell that reminded him of herbs in the wild. The cold that had crept into his bones and taken a stubborn hold on him had slowly retreated, leaving his skin burning as if liquid fire had coursed through his very veins. He had felt sweat trickling down his temples and a tingling starting in the tip of his fingers. Most of all he recalled the chanting. His heart throbbing wildly in an unsteady rhythm as if in reply to the singing voices around him, steadily beating louder until it was like a drum that was hammering against his broken ribs trying to break free. The world had been spinning at every attempt to open his eyes and it had felt like hours, days even before the brightness around no longer hurt. Before he had been able to move his muscles. To lift his aching head. To stretch his sore limbs. To find his voice. To return to the realm of the living. To return and not find Fíli and Kíli there with him.

He did not know which weighed heavier on his shoulders. His own intense sadness at their passing or his sister Dís' utter anguish when they had sent for her not a day after her sons had fallen and she had arrived just in time to bid her own blood farewell. Even now, whenever he would close his eyes, his brooding thoughts would transport him back to that vault at the heart of the Lonely Mountain: to the Royal Tomb and his kin that lay there embalmed in eternal sleep. He would again attend their burial in his mind. Would follow his inner gaze as it wandered over the myriad of fluttering flames of wax sputtering candles the waning and flickering light of which did little to lift the seemingly impenetrable darkness enshrouding the dead and the living alike in their grief. He feared he would forevermore be haunted by the image of the two unmoving figures of his young nephews who meant more to him than anything else in Middle Earth. He would murmur again under his breath the Songs of Mourning, together with the memory of the guttural and deep voices honoring the fallen in a sorrowful melody accompanied by the reverberating cadence of iron boots stamping on the ground, returning as echoes that bounced off the walls in the intervals of the words sung.

Since that dark day, the days had stretched into weeks, until a new moon was born and for the first time after the Great Battle for the Mountain he left its sheltering embrace and stepped out into the night air. As his lungs filled themselves with the bitter cold also biting at the exposed skin of his fingers and face he involuntarily shuddered. The battlements were deserted for all but the solemn figures of his guards, shields and spears with banners in hand and standing still as statues on their vigilant watch.

Thorin, King under the Mountain, took some faltering steps closer, hands clasping the edges of the nearest merlon for support as he stared up at the stars strewn across the black night's sky as if in search for their guidance. A sigh passed his lips, his despair forming white breathy clouds the wind quickly took for its own. He could not afford to remain this way now his people looked to him to lead. Nevertheless most of the time his mind was still a confusing tangle of broken images and distorted sounds that he could not make sense of. And as for his heart.. He did not dare inspect what was hidden away from sight in its dark recesses. It would take many more moons for him to feel whole again.

He was alive. Barely. Yet Alive. Though part of him could not but stir uneasily at this and feel that, perhaps, he should have been dead...

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~Please Review!~


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows! :)

Guest: Thank you for wanting to read more! Makes me want to write more in return! ;)

Arianna Le Fay: I love this idea that Dwarves only have the one true love in their life so I definitely want to stay true to that with this story. That's not to say it's going to be love at first sight and smooth sailing from the get go, I believe love is something that needs a bit of time to grow and it's more often than not quite a bumpy road to get there ;P You'll get to know what my OC looks like through Thorin's pov mostly, but feel free to imagine her differently, I don't mind! Thanks for your review!

SethadoreVGC: First of all thanks for leaving a review! My OC is a Dwarf, I thought about maybe making her an elf but I feel this might be a bridge too far for Thorin and the Kíli/Tauriel storyline from the movies was pretty much perfect already in terms of the potential of love blossoming between those two races so, yeah, didn't want to end up copying it. She could've been a human too but somehow I prefer those from Rohan/Gondor to Laketown/Dale and I didn't think it would be plausible to have one of those accidentally end up in Erebor ;P So, in the end I decided to have her be a Dwarf, they're my favorite race in Middle Earth anyways so I'm happy with that, hope you are too! :D

Angie: Yes! My thoughts exactly! After all he's been through Thorin deserves a chance at happiness! It's going to be a bit of a struggle for him but I feel hard-won love is the best cure in his case ;) Thanks for your review, I hope you'll like my OC (for some reason I find her trickier to write than Thorin)!

Cc: Thanks for the review! For this story I'm basically considering the most direct heir of Durin which would indeed be first born sons, and then with Fíli having been the closest thing to that. But now that both Fíli and Kíli are gone, if Thorin were to marry and have children it would mean there's a chance of the direct line not being broken.. In fact that's the only and last chance.. If that makes sense, haha ;P Thanks for the clarification/elaboration on that score though! Most importantly, I'll focus on how devastating the loss of Fíli/Kíli is for Thorin and Dís and I hope I can write their brother/sister bond well enough for it to be plausible ;)

Dearreader: Thanks for your feedback! :) Definitely not too harsh, constructive criticism is always welcome! And I agree with you, my sentences are way too long sometimes, I'll try to fix that (no promising mind! ;p) as well as cut back on the cliches (that's going to be a tough challenge for me so give me some time for that one ;) And, yaaay, bonus points! :D

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

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 **Chapter II**

THE last of the precious light was drained from the darkening world outside as the setting sun, a fiery and blood-red orb, greedily gathered all to it and melted with the horizon. But all too soon there was nothing but shadows that speedily invaded the eerily quiet Mountain Hall, their far reaching fingers creeping through the elongated shafts hewn from the rock as if it were gills for a giant fish of stone, and closing in on a single solitary figure that seemed in danger of being drowned in their dark embrace.

Heart hammering wildly in her chest Edúr held her breath as she willed herself to move and make her way through the maze of dead bodies around her, kneeling down mournfully next to the fallen Dwarves, and clenching both of the slender, long axes in her hands in bitter resentment as she passed the slain Orcs in a frantic search to find a remnant of life -no matter how small- in her kin and only death for their cursed enemies. Still panting from the fight, her heavy breathing and the metallic clanking of her boots as she carefully put them down were the only sound to be heard. Edúr desperately tried to ignore her body trembling, convulsing even, as her eyes wandered in horror over the intricate marble mosaic underfoot which had blood running over it in little rivers of muddy green and vivid crimson, shimmering sickly in the meager light of a new born moon, its pale rays but barely beginning to penetrate the suffocating twilight.

A sudden loud _caw_ that multiplied a tenfold as it bounced off the unadorned granite walls in shrill echoes was too familiar to her ears to have her startle. Next instant an ink black Raven swooped down from the sky now painted a deep, purplish blue, tucking in its wings as it bore through the narrow opening and into the cavernous Hall.

"Morkai.." Edúr greeted her loyal friend as he soared towards her though the bird landed on her shoulder more like a fallen autumn leaf than with his usual elegance and precision. Worried, she reached out to inspect the ruffled feathers on his left wing which she now noticed was bent in a strange angle but Morkai snapped his beak in warning and she instinctively retreated her fingers.

"This is not the time for stubborn pride-" she began her rebuke but a creaking sound as of wood splintering pierced the silence. Edúr whipped around, causing Morkai to dig his claws into her shoulder in order to stay in place. Wincing for the briefest of moments at the sharp but short lived pain she raised her weapons. Seconds later the massive oaken doors burst open and a group of Dwarf warriors hurried inside. Squinting her eyes she could only just make out the Raven and the Hammer engraved on their metal shields which glimmered dully in the weak orange glow of the torches some of them held. A deep sigh of intense relief passed her lips when she recognized the determined tread of the Dwarf leading the group. He was clad in armor like the others, but instead of a shield and axe he held a plain and battered Warhammer with both of his hands.

"Father!" Edúr called out to him, her voice hoarse and feeble. At first freezing in his tracks and barring the way forward for his guards the Dwarf soon let out a reverberating cry of despair momentarily lifted by hope and came rushing towards her. In the background she could hear the others pass on orders and instructions to each other as they closed the door with the wood groaning angrily in protest before they heaved the bar in place. Not heeding what this could mean Edúr hastened to close the distance between her and her father, relishing the touch of his forehead as he let it rest against hers in greeting.

"My child.. You need to leave." He told her when they broke apart again, his voice low but commanding.

"But.. The others?" Edúr stammered back, the silence that met her question making her swallow hard. "Father..?" His silence took away any remaining hope. She swayed on her feet and tightened her grip on the axes in her hand. _There was no one else_.

Startled out of her shock by the far off sound of scurrying feet like that of large, many legged insects Edúr shifted her gaze towards the door behind which the steadily growing louder animalistic wails and wild cries from Orcs could be heard.

"Niam will go with you. You know what you need to do. Now go." Dazed though she was Edúr shook her head defiantly but her father pushed her back with enough force to almost make her lose her balance, "Go!" He repeated, his tone urgent as he threw her a pleading look. The door rattled in its hinges, shaking violently as it absorbed the force of a battering ram relentlessly pounding into it. Edúr wanted to take a step towards her father as he took another one away from her but Niam appeared from the throng of Dwarf warriors and held her back. Barely visible in the scarce light of torches Edúr desperately held her eyes on her father's face as he retreated further and further away from her. She struggled against Niam's grip but he wouldn't let go of her arms and began dragging her in the opposite direction. Wings fluttering madly and letting out grating screeches, Morkai dug in his claws in her shoulders again to balance himself as she was forced to move against her will.

"Father!" Edúr shouted at the top of her lungs but it was impossible to free herself from Niam.

"Go.." He said wearily, the lines in his wrinkled face taut and a dim light in his eyes hardening until they gleamed hard like steel. Then, jaw set and raising his Warhammer he turned around and charged towards the shattering door with an enraged battle cry as every single Dwarf warrior rallied to him.

"Father.." Her plea was now barely more than a faint whisper as she watched Lord Edrík and his loyal guard plant their shields in the floor with resounding thuds, making a powerful tremor travel through it and cracks to run over it, spreading outwards like tree roots as dozens of Orcs crawled over the splintered door and crashed into them like waves on rocks. Then Niam unceremoniously pulled Edúr through the secret backdoor tucked away in a niche home to a sullen statue and all she could do was run. Not look back. Run..!

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~Please Review! (^-^b)~

 **A/N:** I'll be away for the week and won't have access to internet (crazy, I know ;p) but I'll update as soon as I get back, until then; stay tuned! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows! Your support means a lot to me! :D**

 **Guest: Thank you for leaving me a review! I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story too!**

 **Arianna Le Fay: She might just save him.. Or he her…. ;) It'll take some time but something tells me they'll get there eventually haha Thanks for the review!**

 **Angie: Thank you so much for your super kind words! :D And my thoughts exactly, especially the 'not admitting it' part haha**

 **Dearreader: Wow, thanks for the compliment, you're making me blush! I feel writing is the best hobby there is but it's hard to really judge your own work, even harder to think it's any good so thanks for your concrit &positive feedback, it's much appreciated!**

 **TMI Fairy: Thanks for your reviews! I appreciate your dedication to Tolkien's world and hope you'll enjoy the story even though you might not fully agree with the storyline etc.**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter III**

THE canvas bulged and swelled as a bored breeze toyed with it, causing it to ripple like waves breaking the surface of the sea of fabric. It was upheld by slender wooden poles that pierced the canopy and made the tent appear as a strange pin cushion from the outside. The furniture that had been placed in it was made of the finest wood and needlessly decorative in its design. There were several banners with intricately interwoven patterns next to the entrance, as well as a carpet covering the dusty and cracked slabs scattered seemingly without care over the small forgotten square on one of the upper levels of the city of Dale.

Thorin knew they were expecting him to speak but he remained silent, his eyes leisurely following the shadows of sentinels -Dwarf, Elf and Man alike- gliding past in their various forms and sizes pretending to be engrossed by the movement. He could feel the tension rise at his silence, an almost palpable pulse of friction between him and those who would be his allies from this day forth. This week they had gathered in this fashion and for hours on end negotiated the terms for their future peace and prosperity. And now, at long last, the bargaining for shares of the treasure, the promise of trade and the extent of mutual loyalty had been decided on.

Finally he decided he had had them wait long enough and he slowly shifted his gaze towards the figure opposite him. The tall, fair-haired Elvenking of the Woodland Realm had abandoned his richly carved chair and stood behind it. He was radiating an intense loathing as his hands entwined with the branches that made up the back of it which were reaching towards the canopy as if in search of sunlight. Behind him Bard the Bowman was pacing up and down, brows knitted together in an impatient frown as he slightly shook his head in annoyance while Gandalf leaned forward so the tip of his grey beard was draped on the gnarled surface of the small desk placed in the middle of the tent. Fingers sprawled out on it the Wizard cleared his throat, a subtle but clear reminder that all had pledged their allegiance but him and this was not the time for the infamous stubbornness of Dwarves to block the way forward.

Although he felt truly loyal to his kin and his kin alone, Thorin hoped he was now less of a fool as he had been in making enemies of those he should ally himself with instead. But that did not mean he could shove aside his pride, especially now so little of it was left. He would not beg for help in rebuilding his Kingdom just as he would not part easily with even a fraction of the wealth that was necessary for it. He was willing to grant that which was owed. But no more.

Chin lifted in response to both Thranduil and Bard's glares, Thorin fixed them with a glowering stare of his own. From the corner of his eyes he could see Dwalin straighten with a grunt, pulling himself to his full height and flexing the muscles in his strong arms held tight across his chest in undisguised defiance. An approving grin tugged at the corners of his mouth before Thorin could stop it as he imagined the undoubtedly impressive scowl on the face of his sturdy Commander of the Royal Guard. On his other side he could hear the sound of Balin his trusted Councilor, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, letting out a somewhat nervous _hum_ now and then. Although more diplomatic than his brother, it was clear he was just as ill at ease in the company of Elves and just as bent on not giving in to all of their demands. Which was also why he, unlike his sibling, would listen intently to what was being said, occasionally even putting his own thoughts into words and either whisper them in his ear or mutter them under his breath loud enough for everyone to be heard.

Still, it was not a bad deal, Thorin thought to himself as he lowered his eyes to rest on the roll of parchment stretched out before him. It could, in fact, be viewed as a fair and honest bargain that left him with more than sufficient funds to restore Erebor to its former glory and splendor. That was what he had come back for. And that was what he was determined to see done in whatever time was left to him. The Alliance was useful -indispensable even though he would never admit that- but he had made it no secret it came second when his people and the Kingdom he had to rebuild for their sake were concerned. Thorin reached out for the white, downy feather realizing it must have belonged to one of the famed Silver Swans of the Long Lake. The birds had been a gift of the Elvenking to the Master of the Town both of which were now resting at the bottom of the deep water together with Smaug's rotting remains. The bitter taste of bile suddenly on his tongue he somewhat grudgingly dipped the blackened tip of it in the inkwell and scratched it over the dry parchment. It immediately soaked up the ink forming his name in runes, their sharp angles and rough edges a striking contrast with the Elf's curly and embellished handwriting that he observed with a barely concealed sneer.

The moment he had put the quill down he poured hot wax under his signature, forcefully pressing the seal of Durin in the puddle of the molten, lava-red liquid. Behind him he could hear the audible grumbling -approving and disapproving at the same time, a skill only Dwarves seemed to have perfected- of both Dwalin and Balin. It told him they were mostly glad, as he was, that the seemingly endless hours of talking, negotiating and even bartering at some point had come to an end. _Let it be once again known that no Dwarf will ever lose a haggling competition with either Elves, Men or even Wizards_!

Gandalf let out a long breath in relief as he nodded at the three seals at the bottom of the parchment, the last of which had not yet fully hardened and gleamed a fiery red in the sunlight trickling inside the tent. Bard had stopped pacing and looked similarly pleased though he too undoubtedly realized that while the talking was over now, the rebuilding of all that they had either considered lost forever or damaged beyond repair had only just begun. Thranduil, on the other hand, looked far from satisfied. He glided over to the desk, throwing him a cold stare in the process and not even rewarding the treaty with so much as an acknowledging glance. Then the Elvenking inclined his head towards him; as much of a bow as he was going to receive. Thorin answered it with a similarly terse dip of his chin. Next moment the Elf turned on his heel and swept out of the tent cloak billowing behind him. He was followed closely by Bard who, with a somewhat restrained but genuine smile, let his hand rest briefly on his shoulder as Thorin mirrored the earnest glint in his eyes. And then he was gone too.

"W-Wha-.. Wait! What's going on?" A high pitched voice drifted inside, its tone a blend of an almost panicky surprise and that of utter confusion. Thorin squeezed his eyes in delight and amusement when he spotted a shadow too small to be a Dwarf pass back and forth in a hurry. Next instant Bilbo entered the tent, nose wrinkled the way it always did when something puzzled him and wearing a slightly wary expression on his face.

"Where's everyone going..?" He probed cautiously, eyes cutting from the Wizard and back to himself. Thorin took a step towards him, Balin and Dwalin in his wake but it was Gandalf that answered the Hobbit.

"It is over, Master Baggins."

"What? How do you mean it's.. It's over?" Bilbo blinked a couple of times, clearly nonplussed. Thorin nodded solemnly, causing the Hobbit's jaw to drop and his eyes to go large, "You signed?!" He blurted out sounding incredulous, highly suspicious of the truth of that statement even.

"Indeed." Gandalf concurred with smug satisfaction, putting on his pointy grey hat as they all stepped outside and tapped it once in sheer joy.

"You did not think I would?" Thorin asked, raising his brows and feigning to have been insulted by his apparent doubt.

"Well.. No, but.." Bilbo stammered, hastily attempting to make amends although not able to refrain from pointing out with barely repressed impatience, "Well, I mean, you _did_ take your time."

"You forget, Master Baggins, we Dwarves take great pleasure in the sport of trading, be it for goods, insults _or_ pledges of allegiance." Thorin informed him, a grin playing around his mouth though, contrary to that statement, he had anything but enjoyed the last couple of days, stuck in that tent, laboriously wading through the continuing stream of words.

"Yes.. Well, you certainly turned it into a tediously long tug of war alright." Bilbo huffed with a shrug, soon after adding more seriously, "But I never doubted the outcome."

"And for that trust I thank you." Thorin stood still and turned towards his shorter companion, a sudden weight that seemed to come from deep within rooting him to the spot.

"Though I am not sure I earned it.." He admitted honestly.

"You have, Thorin." Bilbo hastened to assure him, instantly fidgety upon perceiving the by now familiar shadow that must have crossed his face, "You have more than earned it."

He grumbled his gratitude instead of turning it into words he could not now readily find. Then, eyes falling on the travel pack lying rather forlorn only a few steps away from an auburn pony, a profound sadness welled up inside of him.

"You are leaving then?" Although a question aimed at the faithful Hobbit and the Wizard, Thorin stated it as more a confirmation of something he had already known would come but had not found it in his heart yet to say out loud.

"I played my part in this quest, and I am grateful for you taking me with you on it. But it is time to go home." Bilbo explained, a pained expression marring his looks.

"You are more than welcome to stay in Erebor, for as long as you should wish." Thorin pressed him though he could see that the Hobbit had made up his mind. And from experience he knew that once he had, he could prove as headstrong as a Dwarf. Well, _almost_ , that was. And that was saying a lot. Balin and Dwalin flanking him lost no time in seconding the invitation, but Bilbo shook his head and they had no choice but to resign in the inevitable, the former sniffing in a handkerchief and the other growing even more quiet than usual.

"Maybe I will return. One day. I should like to see the Lonely Mountain again. Visit friends.." Bilbo promised, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as he said it.

"Very well, Master Baggins. And should we ever be in need of a burglar I will personally come and find you in the Shire to engage your services once again." Thorin told him, knowing the Hobbit would recognize it for the similar promise that it was.

"And I would gladly accept the challenge." Bilbo answered him with a watery smile, adding in a voice that nearly broke at the end of his sentence, "I'm at your service, your Majesty. Always."

"And we are at yours, dearest friend. _Always_." From the corner of his eyes Thorin could see both brothers nod in heartfelt agreement. Next moment they had sidestepped him, almost bumping in to each other as they were determined to bid Bilbo farewell in Dwarf fashion; with both hands clasped around each other's arms and gently touching foreheads. After this was done they took a step back and remained standing at a respectful distance each occupied with their own thoughts and feelings. Thorin used the opportunity to place both his hands on the Hobbit's frail shoulders, saying earnestly, "I will treasure our friendship, Bilbo Baggins, till the end of my days.."

Seemingly overcome by emotion, their Burglar swallowed hard and nodded. He cleared his throat and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times but no words came out. Finally he took a few faltering steps back and bent down to lift his pack off the ground. Shouldering it he stared at his hairy bare feet and wriggled his toes, momentarily lost in thought. Respectfully leaving him be Thorin turned to Gandalf, who had tucked his staff behind one of the straps of the saddlebags slung around his horse's back and now fiddled with a pipe in his hand.

"It was good to have a wizard in our company. I trust our collaboration has been mutually beneficial." He remarked as Gandalf conjured fire from out of thin air and lit his pipe in the same swift movement.

"You know, I think it has." The Wizard agreed in a tone of wonder, chuckling before it turned into a cough as he inhaled deeply with the pipe still clinging to his lips.

"Though I believe I have been around Dwarves long enough to have earned some time away from them. More often than not your race is more trouble than you are worth." He said in jest, adding a playful wink to his words before having his hand rest consolingly on Bilbo's back, leading him to his pony which the Hobbit then somewhat clumsily and with an awkward 'Hmmpf' mounted. Getting onto his own horse, the Wizard puffed out a series of rings of smoke, addressing the three Dwarves assembled to bid them goodbye one last time in a somewhat conspiring if not downright mysterious tone, "Try not to wake anymore Dragons.."

He turned around in his saddle, urging his horse into a steady plod which caused Bilbo's pony to hurriedly spur into action and trod along behind him. Thorin watched the Hobbit hobbling on its back, pots and pans dangling from his pack. The image brought back such a strong wave of memories of setting out on their quest and traveling in the wild together for all those months, facing danger and forging bonds that the desire to join them was overwhelming enough to block his throat, effectively cutting off his voice. Then, forcing back tears, Thorin placed his hand over his chest and bowed ever so slightly in formal goodbye, calling out after them, "I give you my word."

Bilbo threw him a warm look over his shoulder while Gandalf simply raised his hand in goodbye just before they both turned the corner and disappeared into the ruined city of Dale leaving behind only a trail of smoke rings lazily curling up towards the heavens and an aching heart of a Dwarf already longing to see them again.

~Please Review! (^-^b)~

 **A/N** **: Sorry the chapters are still rather short and the overall story is kind of slow-paced, I'll try to update once or twice a week to speed things up a bit ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows!**

 _Angie: Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer! :D I just couldn't resist throwing in a little Thorin/Bilbo interaction, I'm glad you enjoyed it!_

 _Guest: At the risk of sounding strange but I'm glad I sort of made you cry! Haha ;p It's always difficult to gauge whether or not I'm successfully conveying an emotion through characters so it's good to know you felt it! Hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story too! Thanks for your review :)_

 _Trich: Thanks for leaving me a review! I'm planning to have Thorin's or my OC's POV for each alternate chapter but seeing that way the story would potentially progress too slowly I wouldn't be surprised if at some point I'll have both their perspectives in a single chapter ;)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter IV**

THEY had always lived in the shadow of danger. To the East lay the Desolation of Smaug ever since the Dragon had claimed the Lonely Mountain. Even while it had slept for so long on the rich treasure within the halls of Erebor it had been nothing short of madness to venture out on that vast stretch of wasteland. To the South the edge of Mirkwood had ever presented a border one would do wise not to pass. There dwelled creatures more lethal and foul than Elves in those parts, if spiders larger than Wargs would not ensnare you in their sticky webs than straying from the path into the maze of trees would just as surely seal your fate. To the West the Misty Mountains ran on for many miles, increasingly teeming with Goblins and bandits bent on having their own wicked way with anyone foolish or unfortunate enough to cross their paths. And to the North.. To the North was the dreaded Fortress of Gundabad. Edúr had spent the greater part of her life in its looming presence, had experienced but never gotten used to the instinctive fear that had shivers run down her spine whenever scouts would return from it. Without exception they always looked ashen-grey in the face, their shoulders hunched and fists balled as if whatever inner turmoil they were battling had them cower in a futile attempt to ward off the evil that nestled there.

When it had emptied, but a month ago although this was difficult to believe, and Orcs had come streaming out of the Fortress' stench filled and rotten bowels they had all known the War that had been brewing had come at last. That the rumors of the Fire Drake's death had been true. That the King under the Mountain had truly returned. But they had hid themselves. As they had always done to survive. After all, what could a dwindling Clan in their isolated Keep do to stem the flow of so many enemies? What was left of the strong sense of duty inherent in their race when they had been forgotten by their very own kin for all these long years? What allegiance did they owe any when they had stood alone perpetually surrounded and the coming day was as much hoped for as it was dreaded?

Perhaps the time had come for these questions to be answered since now, despite her father's brave and increasingly desperate attempts to keep them out of it, they had been drawn into the fight nevertheless. And Edúr found herself burdened with a task she felt strongly opposed to carry out. She had left her Clan behind, abandoned her father and with it any hope that he may survive. Had deserted the Mountain Hall that was her home as it was under attack of a band of Orcs that the Fortress had kept hidden from sight. And all of this to tell the Dwarves of Erebor of the threat Gundabad still posed to the Line of Durin. To warn a King she had never felt loyal to..

Trapped in the inner conflict that was wreaking havoc with her mind she had lost all track of time as they fled as fast as they could. Edúr more than once thanked Mahal for the endurance and undying stamina of their Blackhorn Mountain Goats that carried them further and further away from the pursuing Orcs. They had effortlessly scaled the steep cliffs as they descended the Grey Mountains. Once they had crossed the River Langflood and cut the ropes of the bridge many of their enemies had been devoured by the strong currents and maelstroms. It had also meant they had been cut off from their way back. No matter how much she longed to, returning by the same route was impossible. And so they had spurred on their tireless mounts and Edúr had clutched the reins tightly in her hands as the massive horns of their Mountain Goats cleaved through the mist that had descended on the land and seemed determined to accompany them all the way to the Lonely Mountain.

Even though they hardly spoke she was thankful for the company of her cousin Niam. Without him she would have been lost already, either having fallen prey to exhaustion and disorientation or to a pack of hungry Wargs if the River had not taken her to its depths. For two days they kept the Grey Mountains to their left while Mirkwood passed on their right. They hardly rested along the way, growing more exhausted by the hour. But they had no choice. With neither of them well equipped for hunting -Edúr had only her pair of twin axes strapped cross-like on her back and Niam his short sword and shield- they could not afford to tarry for then hunger would get to them before any pursuing Orc could.

And thus they traveled on in relentless haste, the guilt of leaving her kin behind increasingly weighing heavier on her heart. And she knew this was true for Niam also. His face as they rode on in silence was constantly taut with anxious worry mirrored no doubt by a similar concern etched on her own. Moreover, their strength was steadily draining from their tired bodies. Every muscle ached and Edúr felt more numbed to the bone each time she had managed to get some precious hours of sleep on the cold heath covered ground. Though it was not for that reason alone that she wanted to keep on riding instead of submitting to rest. Her father's face would plague her in her dreams, calling out her name at first but then pushing her away from him, urging her to complete her burdensome task.

On the third day of their journey they finally reached the Desolation of Smaug. It was a strange sensation to feel no small amount of relief once they started to cross the barren and cursed wasteland they would not too long ago have hesitated to even near as close as several miles. Now it meant they had covered half the distance and their innate sense of direction, Niam's more than hers, had not abandoned them. It was vital that it had not, for they would not last much longer journeying at this murdering pace. The fog had also lifted somewhat by then and, squinting against the prying rays of a pale sun she could just make out the Lonely Mountain rising up in the middle of the ash covered and deserted landscape. The sight at once spurred her on to a greater hurry but also filled her with a sense of foreboding that seemed impossible to shake off.

On the late afternoon of the fourth day they came somewhat unexpectedly upon the remnants of the battlefield where Orcs, Elves, Men and Dwarves alike had fought. The landscape was scarred and pockmarked with the violence of the recent war. Rotting corpses of Orcs and Trolls along carcasses of broken chariots and catapults made it an eerie graveyard to travel through. And then there were the rows upon rows of small burial mounts. Tombs made out of sand adorned with helmets of the purest iron each of which represented a fallen Dwarven Warrior. She could not keep her eyes from wandering over to the only recently covered graves and yet she dared not count how many had lost their lives. But they could not let their surroundings affect them. They were so close now. And there was no time to lose..

Her stomach lurched as her eyes strayed over the gruesome sight on either side so Edúr closed them, focusing instead on the rhythmic clattering of hooves of her Mountain Goat as it unfalteringly chose its way across the boulder strewn surface below them. The rocking movement of its gait inevitably lulled her into a dreamless doze so she was forced to lift her eyelids again, taking her more effort than it should. Now was not the time to succumb to sleep. If only because it would not be the first time she had slid out of the saddle and she was determined to forego the pleasure of more needless bruises and scratches.

Sluggish as her mind was, though, they were already at the foot of the mountain and had rounded it before she could prepare herself for the sight that met their eyes. Her mount trudged along in perfect indifference but Edúr could not help but hold her breath and blink as her gaze roved over the majestic Keep hewn out of the white-green stone delved from the mountain's core. There was a narrow bridge that arched over a deep water filled moat, flanked by two enormous statues of Dwarven warriors, both resting on one knee while thrusting the double edged axes in their hands forward in an unmistakable gesture of warning.

Morkai cawed meekly, claws briefly squeezing her shoulder. "I know.." Edúr admitted in a low voice, "The sight makes me ill at ease too.."

"Aye.." Niam mumbled in wary agreement, eyes narrowed and fixed on their destination.

Without another word they approached the imposing entrance of what once had been the mightiest of Dwarven Kingdoms with a growing trepidation. She had no memory of this place, being but a young, one–year old Dwarrowling when they had left it, but its looming presence alone robbed her of her voice and all she could do was stare at it in awe as they neared the double doored gate the bridge led to.

"Halt! Who goes there?!" One of the guards standing on the ramp above the gate called out, his voice ripping the air almost like a clarion would herald their coming. He was wearing an impressive armor and with a strange pang of guilt she recognized his iron helmet that covered most of his face. Before they could answer him the gates swung open and more armored guards swarmed out. They had formed a circle around them in no time, causing their Mountain Goats to come to a sudden halt, bleat once and stamp their hooves in indignant protest. Edúr rose in the stirrups, swinging a leg over the saddle and nearly collapsing when her feet made contact with the ground. She swayed, feeling dizzy as the world spun for a moment until she felt confident enough that her legs would hold her weight.

When she stepped round her Goat, holding the reins in one hand, she saw Niam had done the same and was now talking to the most important looking guard, or at the very least the one with the longest and bushiest beard. Still tottering somewhat unsteadily on her feet, Edúr trusted her cousin to deal with the guards and looked up at what legend described as the most beautiful of all Dwarfmade Mountain Halls. She was hardly aware of what was going on around her, let alone what was being said between the dozen or so guards and a handful of Dwarves clad in formal looking attire that had rushed over to inspect their visitors.

Next instant the cluster of Dwarves and Guards dispersed somewhat and one got a hold of the reins she was still clutching tightly for support. Catching on to his intentions she let go, he made a slight bow and led both of their Goats away in the direction of where she presumed the stables must be. A Dwarf with his thick hair sculpted in an unusual tri-hawk and whose two short braids ended in plain iron rings weaved his way through the receding crowd. He talked briefly with a guard in low tones before throwing her a puzzled look. Next instant he had patted the guard on its armored shoulder plate, causing the odd sound as that of a metallic drum to mingle with the whispers and grumbling of the other Dwarves around them, before he hastened passed and away from the direction of the gates without so much as a backwards glance.

Niam appeared at her side, nodding reassuringly at her then one of the guards prodded him in the back, urging him into motion. Fixing the armored Dwarf closest to her with a deadly stare effectively stopping him in his tracks, Edúr turned around and mustered all of her remaining strength to keep up with the guard charged to bring them inside.

Bereft of her usual curiosity that would have her look upon the place she was born in with wonder and without the time to register the labyrinth of hallways they passed through she simply focused on the back of the guard, hoping that wherever he was taking them they would get there soon. She was not sure how much longer she could keep putting one foot in front of the other without tripping or even collapsing.

They had just turned a corner for what seemed the hundredth time when, with panic rising inside of her as she realized she would already be unable to find her way out again, their guard raised his hand and suddenly halted. He showed them into a small, octagonal chamber with lit lanterns dangling from the low ceiling, casting most of the chairs placed around and oval table in a constantly growing and shrinking orange glow. The reason for their coming foremost in her swirling thoughts, Edúr had been on the verge of opening her mouth to demand of the guard that he would bring them to the King directly when he grumbled something incoherent, bowed and backed out of the room, all but slamming the door shut as soon as he had stepped over the threshold.

Somewhat forlorn, she remained where she was, apprehension filling her entire being. With shame she recognized there was a sense of fear even that had slyly entered her heart as well. It was too late to turn back. And she would not. Though she had to admit to herself that if doing so had not meant her father, _her entire clan_ , had perished in vain she would have given in to her impulse to flee from this chamber and run all the way back to the gate. Never before had the weight of her past pressed down so hard on her. Never before did she dread what would happen to them next because of it. After all, two generations ago her Clan had been banished from this very mountain. And she did not doubt that for them to return still bore the penalty of death...

~Thanks for Reading & Please Review! (^-^b)~


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows!**

 _Angie: Thanks! Sometimes I feel I might be a little too descriptive and am in danger of losing myself in the details but I'm glad that you could picture the scenery and characters, that would be the goal! :D Well, let's just say there'll definitely be sparks flying between Thorin and Edúr in this chapter ;P I hope you'll like their first encounter!  
_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter V**

HE had only just seated himself on his throne when, straining his ears, he could hear the sound of footsteps approaching as it invaded the utter silence that as always lay heavily on the Gallery of Kings. He recognized the heavy footfall of metal plated boots that his warriors wore, almost entirely drowning out the distinctly lighter patter of perhaps leather-bound feet. And yet these unfamiliar footsteps betrayed a dull clanking every now and then as hard-soled shoes made contact with the floor, telling him their visitors might be dressed for battle after all. _Good_ , Thorin thought to himself in something close to relief even though he should probably feel alarmed at what that possibility might entail. He had simply spent more than enough hours the past few days negotiating that he had much rather meet with warriors come to pledge their Lord's allegiance. He could even endure a Clan disputing his right to the Throne rather than lose himself in the treacherous bog that discussing trade with new merchants or exchanging civilities with nobility often ended up becoming.

From their pedestals his forebears looked on in solemn gravity and with a patience he feared he would never acquire as four guards appeared at last and passed under the first of many archways. Following the guards were another two Dwarves -their tread significantly slower and weary but their stride no less purposeful- who must be the ones Nori had called him back from Dale for. He watched them idly as they came closer, the elongated shadows of ivory-smooth pillars momentarily casting them in fragile shadows whenever they passed one of the hundred that supported the arched ceiling. Even with squinted eyes they were simply too far away to for him to make out more or recognize anything that might tell him who they were.

Thorin heaved a somewhat recalcitrant sigh, sagging in his throne. With the recent parting of friends still fresh on his mind, he found himself in no mood to greet strangers. What was more, he had never been one for ceremonies, social gatherings or diplomacy. For the past month he had left most of the talking and the exchanging of civilities to either Balin or the others on his Council, trying to ignore the undeniable fact that he was not just a ruler but also a host. It was a role he had not had to play yet, but the prospect of it alone tired him already. The most cumbersome of all the aggravating niceties expected of him was welcoming envoys and guests that claimed an audience with him. Still, the court protocols were clear and part of the traditions his people clung to and, despite being King, he had no choice but to abide by them. Being almost fully recovered, in all honor he could really no longer run away from that responsibility, but it almost made him long to be back on the road again, to be a warrior first, a ruler second, and not a host at all. Especially when there was so much work to do and he felt it a waste of time to pretend to be enthralled by the coming of yet another noble family that had flocked back to the mountain like bees did to honey.

Finally their guests had neared enough for him to see their faces, though this was still a rather difficult task. A dormant curiosity suddenly awakened, Thorin leaned forward and narrowed his eyes as he scrupulously studied both Dwarves. Their skin, a pallid hue, was hardly visible under a thick layer of dirt and dried up blood, making the white in their equally and unnervingly bright blue eyes stand out. The moment his gaze traveled over the Dwarrow maiden he had expected to be a Dwarrow like her companion he could not immediately tear it away again. For a split second her piercing stare made him feel incredibly vulnerable to such a degree he was momentarily unable to move before he managed to shake off the particularly unsettling sensation. Jaw set and fist pressed against his lips he took in the stained and torn long-sleeved tunic she wore and ran on under her girdle, fanning out almost all the way to the even muddier boots the strange mixture of leather, fur and metal the peculiar sound of which had preceded and created an image of them in his mind already. The pattern embroidered on the fabric was too intricate for him to see clearly nor did he have the interest to care to follow it weave its way across her clothes though he did notice it was on her arm guards too.

His eyes returned to her face again, this time he spotted the simple braid from which hair had escaped so that most of it fell in straight strands around her head. In the dim light of the Gallery of Kings where it appeared to be dusk at whatever time of either day or night he could not make out the color. It seemed to him lighter than was usual for a Dwarf, even a Dwarf woman, but there was so much sand and grit in it -he even thought he could discern a stray twig and a leaf lost in the tangle of hair- that it could just as easily be a dark brown with streaks of a fairer hue. It reminded him of the evasive way a gold-vein ran through rock, branching off and sometimes twisting and turning out of sight.

Strangest of all perhaps, though there were many things about her that could compete for that title, was the Raven balanced on her shoulder. His eyes lingered for a moment longer on the bird, only half aware of the guttural rasping sound that came out of its throat and the clappering of its beak as he held it close to the Dwarrow maiden's ear. It was impossible to pick up on what it told its mistress, something which made Thorin involuntarily stir on his throne and grind his teeth uneasily before he shifted his gaze to the Dwarrow. He had rarely seen a Dwarf this smeared and smudged, not counting the miners who he swore acquired such a thick layer of dust no brush could hope to wipe it all off. He was young but had nevertheless grown a beard long enough to reach his chest, two interwoven braids dangling from his chin. His hair was short in comparison and ruffled, tufts of a brownish color stood up in all possible directions. Over a mail coat he was wearing a tabard that was ripped in some places and was tucked under a frayed belt. Thorin was about to open his mouth and address the newcomers, to demand an explanation of who they were and why they had wished to see him, when his eyes fell on the intertwining Raven and Axe stitched on the fabric. He felt something stir inside of him like a sense of recognition but, after staring at it for another few seconds he was unable to put his finger on it and dismissed it as anything that demanded his immediate attention.

Head cocked slightly to the left he exchanged a meaningful look with Balin who wore a troubled expression that did nothing to improve his own mood. He did not even have to look to his right for the partly muffled by his moustache and yet loud ' _grmphf_ ' that Dwalin let out instantly informed him that his first impression was similar to his brother's and his own. Impatient to get to the bottom of the mystery their guests posed, Thorin turned back to face them and the guards that flanked them like the watchful sentinels they were trained to be, one hand folded behind their backs, iron halberds in the other as they rested on the ground on which mirror images of the curved axe-heads and pointed spear-like ends seemed to float.

"Speak." Thorin ordered the strangers gruffly, waving a hand demandingly in their direction.

"We have come to warn you, Thorin, Son of Thráin, Son of Thror." A clear voice rang out in reply, sounding like a single pebble thrown in a deep mineshaft, bouncing off rock and breaking the silence with more noise than one would expect something so small to make.

He was more than a little surprised that it had been the Dwarf maiden that had taken a deep intake of breath before addressing him without so much as an introduction let alone a curtsey or bow. The belated and somewhat abashed inclination of her companion's head did little to remedy the effrontery, even less so did her words. Thorin was aware that throughout Middle Earth Dwarf women had a reputation of being fierce, but he had never encountered one that seemed to embody it to such a degree as did the one now standing defiantly before him.

"Warn me?" He repeated, arching a brow, "Warn me of what?"

"I take it your majesty knows about the Fortress of Gundabad?"

"How could I not. What of it?"

"Although most of your enemies have left it to perish in the Battle of the Five Armies, it is not empty."

" _My_ enemies?" He coolly emphasized the first word as he fixed her with a stare that was bordering on turning into a glare if she would not soon amend her hostile tone.

" _Our_ enemies." She corrected herself grudgingly, then went on in an increasingly ominous voice, "There is a small band of orcs that hides in the fortress, led by the one we call Kazar, spawn of Azog."

Thorin bit his lip as the unexpected utterance of the name of his hated enemy pierced him like a lance. He tasted blood on his tongue and cursed under his breath. Although not wholly unexpected, if this was true than it was bad news indeed. Though he was not yet willing to belief it was. At the moment he judged it nothing but a rumor that had flown a little too eagerly and hastily from the lips of a stranger seen never before in Erebor.

"That filth has been destroyed. I killed him myself. What threat can this, _Kazar_ , possibly pose to me now?" He gritted out through closed teeth.

"The Orcs captured one of our scouts, not a week past. He was barely alive when he escaped and returned to us. He said they had interrogated him about the heir of Durin that still lives.." She left the end of that sentence hanging for him to fill in, whether on purpose or not he could not tell, so that he felt a familiar though what he had hoped had been a beaten fearful anger spike and surge through its worn out channels inside of him. The memory of that battle was still too fresh.. But it _was_ over..!

From the corner of his eyes he could see she took a step forward and had opened her mouth to speak again but he raised his hand and stopped her.

"You have travelled a long way I see. From whence did you come?" Thorin asked her, voice curt and laced with doubt now he was growing tired, restless even, of her warmongering when they had gained a hard fought peace at last.

"The far North." Was all the reply he got in return.

"How far North?" He pressed her, not satisfied with that vague answer and getting more annoyed by the minute.

Her eyes briefly flitted from left to right as if measuring what she could say, "Near where the Grey Mountains meet with the Misty Mountains."

"Close to the ruins of Framsburg?" He inquired, taken somewhat aback by that reluctantly given revelation.

"Aye, but on the other side of the River Langflood. Our keep is at the foot of a mountain looking out onto where Langwell springs on the high and mingles with its brother in the valley below." It had been the Dwarrow this time to answer him, though it instantly earned him a dark look from his companion with which Thorin did not doubt she meant to discourage him to provide their hosts with too much information. This simple gesture alone strengthened his growing distrust of her.

"To my knowledge there are no Dwarven clans that far North."

"And yet, despite your Majesty's lack of knowledge, it is where we came from." She stated with a straightforward bluntness he could have been diverted by or have admired even under different circumstances.

"What is your name?"

"It is of no importance. All that matters is that you ready your most abled warriors to crush the threat of Gundabad, once and for all." She sounded unmistakably testy now, a part of him was surprised that afterwards she did not snarl like a Wolf or hiss like a snake poised to strike.

"It is of importance to me." He enunciated every word, his voice on edge and ignoring the urgent repetition of her request on purpose. "And do not try my patience any more than you already have by having me ask again that which you should have given me voluntarily."

"I will give it to you but not before you promise to take action. Promise to believe us." There was a note of pleading in her last words that did not escape him, but it did not lessen his wariness.

"I think not, for I would not now know who it is that I make a promise to."

They stared long and hard at each other as if engaged in a silent but not less violent battle of wills. Thorin growled in victory when she eventually sighed and gave in, "My name is Edúr, Daughter of Edrík. And this is my nephew Niam, Son of Efraín."

There it was again, that sense of recognition he had had on seeing the crest of the Raven and Axe, but this time he realized it came with a powerful suspicion that pushed all else from his mind. "What House do you belong too?"

Both Dwarves visibly tensed up but remained silent. Thorin leaned forward, folding his hands around the corner of the armrests of his throne, nails practically digging into the marble. "What House?"

The Dwarrow shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other whereas his companion briefly closed her eyes as if bracing herself against the impact she obviously feared her answer would bring about. He could see her overcome an internal struggle and swallow hard before looking up straight at him as if challenging him which was another thing about her that rubbed him the wrong way.

"Speak!" He bellowed, not caring for the harsh echo that traveled through the entirety of the Gallery as a result.

Straightening her back she balled her fists and said in a strained but unmistakably proud voice, "We are of the House of Agor."

Thorin rose instantly from his throne and descended its steps without taking his eyes off her. Hearing that name pronounced jogged the memory that had resurfaced earlier finally into place, making his blood boil. He was too overcome by an old but not forgotten anger now unleashed within him to contain it, and so he instructed his guards with a bitter sneer, "Take them to the dungeons."

"Is this really necessary-" Balin began uttering his protest but he silenced him with the same scowl he had directed at the Dwarves below him. Nothing his councilor could say would sway him to change his decision. Besides, the slightly haunted look and paled face of the old Dwarf betrayed the fact that he had remembered too. On his other side Dwalin lifted his double edged axe of the ground, his eyes acquiring a predatory light as he did so.

"We did not come here to be taken prisoner." The Dwarf named Niam pleaded, voice breaking off and holding his livid companion back by clasping a hand around her arm.

Thorin scoffed in disgust, "Be grateful it is imprisonment. It would be my right to order your execution."

He nodded to the guards and turned around, slowly climbing the steps back to his throne as he could hear the sounds of struggle below accompanied by curses and the grating screech of the Raven as the Dwarves were dragged away.

"You are making a mistake..!" The Dwarrow maiden, Edúr Daughter of Edrík, called out to his back in that clear ringing voice again that had the hair on the back of his neck and arms stand on end.

"No.. _You_ have.." He muttered darkly, turning around and sinking down on his throne. He planted his elbows on the armrests, hands meeting and fingers entwining as he rested his chin on them, the crown he wore pressing on his head so heavily that the irrational thought entered it that never before had he been more aware of the sheer weight of it.

~Thanks for reading & Please Review! (^-^b)~


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows!**

 _Trich: I guess seeing what they both have gone through recently I felt their initial hostility towards each other would be more believable than instantly falling head over heels or politely remarking on the weather would be.. But you're right, Thorin (AND Edúr in all fairness) could do with some anger management haha ;P And don't worry, I would feel horrible if I let her sulk in that dungeon for too long! Thanks for reviewing!_

 _Angie: Thanks for your review! Seriously, it's great to get regular feedback from you and to know how you're experiencing reading this story, makes it so much more fun to write it. And I think that deep impression may be mutual btw, even though they both don't realize yet what it could lead to.. ;p_

 _Joslyn: Thank you for leaving me a review! And don't worry, I'm allergic to unfinished stories so I'll definitely continue writing on this one until the end, hope you'll enjoy the ride with me! :)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter VI**

EVEN though not having the strength left for it Edúr could not stop pacing the length of their cell back and forth like a caged animal would rebel against its imprisonment in the only way it could. Cramped and confined as the space was it meant she would cross it in no more than four to five strides, and each time she did she would turn on her heels and pace the same short distance back. Niam had sunk down on one of the two broken bunks with mold-riddled mattresses that smelled of damp straw and fungus. Morkai had exchanged her shoulder for her cousin's now an overpowering restlessness had ceased control of her and initially riding along on hers had no doubt made him nauseous. And if all of her twisting and turning had not made him sick, her endless pacing was definitely starting to make herself feel queasy. But she could not sit down, she feared that if she did, if her body was stationary, her swirling thoughts would only start revolving around themselves even faster.

Next to her the rusty bars slid past, unbreakable despite their age and a needless reminder of their current predicament. On her way to one wall the fingers of her right hand would brush lightly against the cold metal without making a sound and on her return the ring on her left index finger -set with a polished stone hewn out of the purest obsidian- would rattle against each with a rhythmic _tink-tink-tink_ that acquired an almost hypnotic effect as time wore on. The sound, though strangely soothing, was not strong enough to repel the fresh memory of their disastrous reception in the Gallery of Kings. It was certainly not capable of quelling the bitter echoes of their first and quite possibly last encounter with Thorin, son of Thráin, Son of Thror, King under the Mountain.

To say that their mutual first impressions had been less than favorable was putting it very mildly indeed. And it would have made it easier if she could but remember his face to now aim her seething anger at. But the truth of it was that she had barely been able to see it. The late hour of the day and the scarce light that did manage to filter into the Gallery had been to blame for this. _Partly_ that was. For she did not doubt it had also been her weary anxiety and impatience that had blinded her to perceive him more clearly as he had sat reclined on his throne well receded into the enclosing shadows.

So she found herself conjuring up a mental image of his face before her mind's eye for her livid thoughts to encircle, rage and poke at. In her imagination he had wild, overgrown brows, a nose like a potato under which a bushy and neglected moustache twitched and curled round and round in the most ridiculous fashion. As for his beard, it was lank and home to bread crusts, chicken bones and dried up gravy, courtesy of his gluttony and the result of table manners equivalent to those a Warg possessed while his tangled, dark brown hair resembled a bird's nest long abandoned.

As helpful as her imagination was in providing the King with a face, she had no need for it in recalling what he had sounded like. Obscured his features and person might have been, she did remember his voice. In fact she did not think she would ever be able to forget it again. It had been deep like thunder rumbling then fast and powerful like lightning clashing in the air and splitting rock to the core. It had steadily grown in volume like a storm building up and eventually bouncing off the marble walls and golden floor like mighty hammer strokes once he had released it. Even now as she still heard it reverberate through her entire being she involuntarily trembled again and instantly felt disgusted at herself for it.

Most of all, though, she shivered at the realization that her father had been right. That her grandfather's unwavering loyalty to Durin's Sons, which had endured even after having been doomed by one of his Heirs to a hard life in exile, had proven misplaced. Edúr felt a fool for forgetting -no matter how brief- that Dwarves had long and excellent memories which made old grievances rarely forgotten. It was a mistake to think the King under the Mountain would listen to them. That he or anyone of his Court would listen to them. _Believe_ them. They had not been forgiven. Their present, miserable abode was an obvious testimony to that. On top of this their failed mission made her feel deeply disappointed. She had always harbored hope that the Royal Line of Durin consisted of strong and honorable Dwarves.

Now, it seemed, she had been utterly wrong to have hold on to it for so long. She had lost everything dear to her in coming here. Had abandoned her Clan to their doom in exchange for the cold and unhospitable embrace back into the folds of her birthplace. That thought alone was heavy enough to finally make her stop her pacing. Edúr wrung her hands around the bars, forehead resting against the cold surface searing her skin. Maybe she had preferred for the Dragon to receive them instead of the King under the Mountain, after all for all she knew, the former might have been the more civil of the two..

"I had not expected a warm welcome, but this…" The unmistakably crestfallen tone in which Niam had suddenly after what must have been hours of silence uttered his growing dejection irrevocably woke her from her brooding. She lifted her head as he continued to mutter indignantly, "Locked up like petty thieves!"

"Worse.." Edúr turned around to face him, "like the traitors our past has made us out to be.." She walked over to her cousin, briefly stroking the feathers on Morkai's head when she spotted him still perched cozily on his shoulder before a surge of anger made her retreat her hand and ball it into a tight fist instead. "We have come here to warn a Dwarf not worthy of his title let alone the throne... Who is nothing but a.. A.." She took a deep breath before giving in to her bitterness and plunged in a long list of insults flowing out in Khuzdul. Speaking the ancient Dwarven language always added an intensity to her words and she reveled in its grounding and guttural sounds that traveled through her throat as it made the muscles in her jaw clench and relax, her tongue roll up and scrape the roof of her mouth and back of her teeth. She had only just finished her tirade when she noticed Niam had gotten to his feet and Morkai was tilting his head from side to side in curiosity. There was a meaningful _hum_ behind her an Edúr swiveled around only to discover that the source of the sound was an elderly, white haired Dwarf, clad in a maroon overcoat over which a long beard ending in two subtly turned upwards tips was draped. The end of his wide sleeves had been embroidered and were black like the leather gloves that covered his hands. He had opened the doors to their cell and entered it without her noticing.

"I will not ask who that was a description of, though I daresay I can hazard a guess." The Dwarf remarked knowingly, inviting amused snorts from the two that she now noticed had followed him inside. One had black hair standing up like a hedgehog's bristles while his beard was nearly as white as his older companion. His most remarkable feature, however, was without a doubt the small head of an axe buried in his skull. The other Dwarf looked the complete opposite. Unlike the grumpy frown that wrinkled the forehead of the Dwarf with the embedded axe, he simply beamed at them from under a large, floppy hat lined with fur, both flaps of which pointed towards the ceiling. He had brown, straight hair, with a moustache and beard in the same color, the first considerably longer than the latter.

"Balin, Son of Fundin. At your service." The elderly Dwarf introduced himself with a somewhat twirly bow, making her eyes snap back to him in time to see that his white beard almost swept the dusty ground. She recognized him as one of two that had been in the Gallery of Kings, standing next to the throne. Although the disarming smile he now threw both her and Niam had definitely not been there at that time, Edúr remembered his attempt to stop the King from banning them to the dungeons. Before she had time to speculate on the reason of his visit the Dwarf to his right mimicked his bow as best he could, saying in a blithe voice, "Bofur, at your service!" The grin he had worn before broadened and he took off his hat when he bent his back and dipped his head low as if competing for and intending to win the most jovial introduction. The third Dwarf refrained from bowing at all, he merely placed his arm over his chest and muttered something that sounded like Bufur or Bifur, she could not tell with certainty which.

Momentarily stunned by the sudden visit of the three Dwarves and even more so by the kinder tone in which they were now addressed -it could not have been a sharper contrast with their earlier treatment- their greetings were met by a tense silence only.

Balin hummed somewhat awkwardly before clearing his throat, "I take it that it is customary also for Dwarves of the far North to politely introduce themselves when in the company of those they do not know well? Why not reward our admittedly belated and feeble but no less well meant attempt with that of your own? Though I understand if you do not. You must be very fatigued after all.." Somehow the old Dwarf had managed to sound anything but overbearing despite the hint of reproach in his words and had given her the idea instead he was kindly encouraging them to trust him and his companions. He gave them another one of his disarming smiles, this time it was accompanied by a warm light kindled in his eyes.

"Niam, Son of Efraín. At your service, Master Balin." Her cousin stepped forward and made a polite bow, clearly having decided to give their visitors the benefit of the doubt.

Edúr felt four pairs of eyes expectantly aimed her, prompting her to hastily nod and stammer rather tersely, "Edúr. At yours.."

"Hmm," Balin mumbled as if he was tasting wine, then pouted his lips slightly when he had made up his mind, "It is a start, I think." He concluded with the smallest of winks in her direction. "Now if you would follow me, My Lady, I have arranged for the both of you to be moved to a different accommodation. Bofur and Bifur have come along to carry any possessions you might-" He broke off, visibly hesitated and subjected their cell to a brief inspection. A cursory glance alone should have informed him that they were its only inhabitants. "Ah.." He murmured with what sounded a lot like compassion once he realized they had no luggage to call their own.

"With raving Orcs in pursuit bent on tasting Dwarven flesh one does not have a lot of time for packing." Edúr supplied, not bothering to sift the sting out of that remark.

"We have but the clothes we wear." Niam next to her remarked apologetically, tugging at his shirt in demonstration and adding, "Well, we also have our Goats and weapons-"

" _Had_." She cut in, "Guards took both away from us."

"I see." Balin replied calmly, not showing the discomfort he in all likelihood did feel and nodding as if more to himself than anyone else when he explained, "Well, naturally it is against regulation to attend an audience with the King while armed." Her look darkened dangerously at this and he quickly went on, "But I am sure your weapons will be returned to you shortly. And as for your mounts, I will see to it they are taken care of though I do not doubt they have been having a far better time down at the stables than-" He stopped himself short, a hint of embarrassment playing across his face.

"Then we have had down here in the dungeons." Edúr filled in, not feeling inclined to be forgiving on that score just yet.

Deeming it wise to deviate from the hazardous road they were threatening to go down, Balin cleared his throat again and gestured for his companions to ready themselves to leave, saying to her and Niam, "Well, best get going. This way, if you please."

Not having much of a choice, but definitely not of a mind to stay behind in the dungeons they followed the three Dwarves in silence. Balin took the lead while Bifur brought up the rear. Bofur fell into step next to the two of them and tried to start a conversation several times along the way which Niam -partly guilt-tripped but mostly out of genuine interest- entered into, leaving her free to settle the many conflicting thoughts that crowded her mind. Once again her exhaustion deprived her of the zeal to take in her surroundings and before she knew it they had arrived at their destination. On the way she had lost count of the number of stairs and thus the number of levels they had climbed. But at the moment she was willing to remain blissfully ignorant of the precise location of their new abode for it could not possibly be worse than the drafty and cold dungeons from whence they had come.

Balin motioned for the other two Dwarves to join him at the front of their odd assembly once they reached a heavy oaken door. When they had pushed it open with Bifur letting out a grumpy 'umphf' and Bofur emitting a snicker in response, Balin stepped up and preceded them into a spacious chamber. He stood still at the heart of it, spreading his arms and plunging into a detailed description of its layout, though Edúr soon lost track of the elaborate enumerations, being satisfied enough on hearing the words 'bed' and 'fireplace' in one of his winding sentences; rest and warmth was all she longed for at the moment.

"I apologize for our treatment of you earlier, I hope your current quarters can partly amend for it. Please do not hesitate to partake in the refreshments set out for you." Balin told them with an earnest look in his eyes and clapping his hands together with a surprised 'oh!' when he realized he had forgotten to mention something important, "Our Healingmaster will be with you soon to treat your wounds. Though you do not need to have studied medicine to know that rest, perhaps, would now be the best cure."

Although she wished to do nothing else but object, to protest and resolve all that had been said but not yet acted on she had to admit to herself her strength had all but left her. Nor could she possible deny the truth of what the old Dwarf had said. Niam gratefully inclined his head when Balin left them with a solemn nod, Bifur and Bofur trailing after him, the latter not able to resist popping his head round the door with a wide grin before it closed with a dull thud. Edúr turned around her axis, slowly taking in the surroundings. It was impossible not to marvel at the luxury and splendor that met her eyes. She grumbled, placing her hands on her hips in half-hearted defiance and thinking to herself that, perhaps, the Dragon would have been the lesser host of the two after all..

~Thanks for Reading & Please Review! (^-^b)~

A/N: So... I realize Bifur actually gets rid of that axe-head in the movie (and let's face it I think it's fair to say I'm basing this story more on the movies than the book ;), but it's such a signature characteristic that I left it half buried in his skull… Ahem.. Sorry Bifur, but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do haha ;p


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows!**

 _Angie: Thanks for taking the time to leave me a review again! I appreciate your dedication to this story! :) It was definitely fun to write Edúr's imagined description of Thorin, she couldn't possibly be more off haha ;p And don't worry about your English! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter too!_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter VII**

AS his eyes wandered over the curved blade shimmering in the light of flames dancing below it he felt a familiar itch in his fingers, tempting him to take Orcrist down from its resting place above the huge hearth in the Council Chamber and close them around the hilt to wield it with deadly force and precision. Containing the impulse, irrational as he knew it was, Thorin turned his back towards the roaring fire, spitting out with heartfelt indignation, "You did _what_?!"

Balin closed his eyes at the harsh bark his voice had turned into at the end of that terse sentence and wrinkled his forehead as if he was suddenly plagued by a terrible headache. He let out a deep sigh then opened them again. Taking another few steps in his direction the old Dwarf began repeating the arguments he had already -and futilely- offered him but a moment ago.

"They were weary of their travel and I simply took the liberty of having them moved some place other than the dungeons."

"Why? It is where they belong." Thorin dismissed his explanation with an ireful growl.

"I felt one of the guest quarters on the South Wing was more suitable. Well, more suitable than a prison cell, at least." The old Dwarf attempted again to convince him but to little avail.

"Balin. I had no choice. My grandfather had no choice. Those Dwarves are nothing more than descendants of a would-be murderer. Of a _traitor_.." Thorin lowered his voice, closing the remaining distance between him and his trusted advisor and friend, placing both his hands on the Dwarf's shoulders, "They belong to the House of Agor. Their fate was sealed long ago."

Balin looked back at him in earnest, eventually nodding slowly. The relief he felt to know that he had gotten through to the Dwarf soon proved to be premature for Balin cocked his head to the side and mumbled in his usually sagely manner, "A very old bloodline. And a noble stock too if I recall.."

Irritated that his words had clearly not been taken as he had intended them, Thorin let his hands slide of Balin's shoulders and whisked around, muttering darkly under his breath though he made sure it was loud enough for the other Dwarf to hear, "Aye, noble enough to turn on their King!"

"Thorin." It was Dwalin now that addressed him, the gravity in which he spoke making him instantly wary. Before he could turn to the seasoned warrior, however, Balin shook his head and Dwalin held back on whatever else he had wanted to say.

"I will tell him." Balin pressed his sibling, conspiratorially raising a hand to quell the tell-tale signs of protests as Dwalin first grumbled moodily, then pointedly pressed his lips together with a deep frown and eventually started pacing the length of the room.

"Tell me what?" Thorin asked the both of them demandingly, eyes cutting from Dwalin's receding back to Balin's troubled face, not liking that he did not know what the exchange between the two had meant.

"Tell me!" He pressed them, not caring his raised voice bounced off the walls, he had not been able to contain the anger still boiling close under the surface because of what had happened in the Gallery of Kings, it had in fact increased another notch with the apparent betrayal of his friend and the enigmatic behavior of him and his brother alike.

At first there was only the sound of Dwalin's heavy boots as he stubbornly continued pacing and put them down with more force than was necessary. Ignoring the repetitive _clunk_ - _clunk_ - _clunk_ of metal on marble, Balin took a deep breath, round stomach inflating and nostrils widening. But the words he had been on the verge of saying died on his lips when the doors to the Council Chamber suddenly swung open and a figure clad almost entirely in black and grey damask strode inside. The Dwarrowdam had an elegance to her that was almost undwarflike, so was the fact that she was remarkably light on her feet. Her sturdy built and short stature, however, removed all doubt that she was in fact of their race.

"Ah, I thought I heard your charming voice, Brother." Dís remarked as she approached, her voice aloof and tired, "You better have a good reason for trying to punch a hole in the mountain with your temper, I am sure it has stolen my sleep from me for the rest of the night." She inclined her head to Balin and Dwalin when they bent low in bows of reverence as she passed them, causing the rings set with precious stones piercing her earlobes and crawling all the way over the ridges to swing back and forth, emitting a clear tinkling like that of a wind chime.

Thorin relaxed instinctively in her presence, regardless of the admonishing tone in which she had addressed him and, anger receding somewhat, he patiently watched her near him. Although rare for a Dwarf belonging to the royal family, she wore but few ornaments or jewels, especially now in her time of grief. She had removed her ruby covered diadem -her most valuable heirloom- and instead simple strings of black pearls covered her one thick light-grey braid like a net giving him once again the impression of droplets of ink clinging to a cobweb. There was a flicker of gold and his eyes had strayed to the heavy chain around her neck before he could stop himself. He just managed to swallow a curse as his heartrate increased at the sight of the amulet dangling from it, disappearing now and then in the folds of the black-grey damask on which it rested. The gold seemed to have acquired an even richer and more enticing glow in the light of the blazing fire. He should not be drawn to it. Should not feel feverish to the bone, even if for a split second, upon beholding the exquisite beauty and sheer magnificent glimmering of it.

"Sister." Thorin greeted her, eyes cast down and fearing a hint of the guilt he felt for more reasons than he dared to count had seeped into his voice. Whether she had noticed this or not, he could tell by the tinkle of her earrings that she had nodded to him in what he knew was her forgiveness. Next moment she had moved away and sank down in one of the chairs near the hearth. Even throughout their childhood they had never stayed angry at each other for long -ever after their Brother Frerin's death it seemed neither was inclined to part before an argument had been resolved- and he was relieved that despite their long separation this was still the case. He only wished he could have welcomed her back to a different Erebor. To a Kingdom in which Durin's line was secure in Fíli and Kíli and she could have spent the rest of her days with that reassuring knowledge.

"What is it you were talking of? And if it is politics you need not make an effort to involve me in the conversation." Dís inquired, her usual wit shimmering through -she was in fact a far shrewder and cunning politician than he could ever hope to be- though sounding a little bored at the same time. Thorin gladly took it as a sign that she was rallying and had started to resemble herself a bit more again despite her present sorrow for the loss of both her sons. In a strange way it gave him hope for himself though he doubted not that it would take many more moons for the both of them to feel less sad. Still, it was a comfort to him to know they at least had each other.

Seeing Balin and Dís had always gotten along well it surprised him that the old Dwarf showed no sign of an amused smile working its way to his lips nor did he give any inclination that he had heard his Sister's question at all. Thorin doubted his eyes had even left his own face, which instantly served to remind him of his strange behavior before Dís had interrupted. The fact that he still could not read the expression on the Dwarf's face made him even more determined to find out what was bothering him.

"I do not know. Tell me, Balin, what exactly is it we were talking of?" With his periphery vision Thorin could see Dís raising a quizzical brow at his rather unusual request where it made Dwalin pace in an even tighter circle and Balin momentarily freeze. Eventually, after his younger brother urged him with a scowl and a grumbled 'He needs to know!' Balin let out an impatient "Yes, yes..!" and cleared his throat importantly albeit somewhat nervously before he finally spoke, "The history of the House of Agor, as you know it, might not have been the entire story. Might not have been, in fact, the true story."

Interest piqued, Dís' chair creaked as she sat up straight and the clanking sounds of Dwalin's boots echoed one last time around the chamber as he finally ceased his pacing.

"I am listening.." Thorin told the old Dwarf, apprehensively awaiting what would come next.

"It pains me to say it but King Thror's fondness... Well, that is, his _love_ of gold is at the core of it."

Trusting that his friend would not have broached this subject save for an important reason that would prompt him to do so, Thorin swallowed hard and repressed the discomfort that had welled up inside of him like a wave that took a boat by surprise. I took him a moment to anxiously exert his control over the unsettling sensation so it - _he_ \- would not topple because of it. "Go on.."

"When your grandfather banned that clan from these halls the riches of Erebor had already a strong hold on him. So strong in fact that he was the only one that believed in the guilt of Lord Edínn, Head of the House of Agor. Believed in it so strongly that he imagined his most trusted Councilor to have turned against him. To have meant to rob him of his life.. Many saw the King as he thrusted the dagger into his would-be assassin's hands, guided it to his own heart.."

Balin's voice trailed off but Thorin was grateful he did not pursuit the story now he had already guided him in the direction of it. He lifted his hand and rubbed his forehead in thought as memories of the madness that had taken hold of his grandfather flitted unbidden in and out of his mind. Even after all these years he had not forgotten how Thror, King under the Mountain, had accused many who loved him of trivial things like thievery and deceit just as easily as seeing in them enemies that would usurp his throne, take Erebor's treasures from him. And although it pained him Thorin could not deny that even his own family -his parents, sister and himself- had not escaped his grandfather's paranoia. Thorin clinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb, forcefully stopping himself before he would remember more strongly perhaps his own encounter with Dragon Sickness still so fresh it scared him to think of it.

"Do you believe this?" He asked after a long and tense silence, directing the question at Dwalin and only realizing afterwards that his voice had been hoarse with repressed emotion. The Commander of the Royal Guard grunted something incoherent then casted his eyes down.

"He does." Balin spoke for him, adding grumpily with a bit of an accusatory edge to his voice, "though he might not show it."

Thorin nodded in understanding then turned to Dís, "Did you know of this?"

She hesitated for a moment, fingering the golden chain she wore around her neck absentmindedly -Thorin shivered at the rush the glittering of the metal most precious of all sent through him- then shook her head in denial.

"No, but I have suspected it." Dís admitted, voice deep and melancholy as if it too had traveled back from the past just like her thoughts must have.

Thorin turned towards the flames wreathing around the blackened logs, arms outstretched and hands resting against the mantelpiece for support. It was unbearable to realize how, before Dís had walked in, he had felt the urge to grab Orcrist and stab his most trusted friend much like he had now found out his grandfather had been convinced Lord Edrík had done to him. After everything that had happened, did he really still doubt the loyalty of those most dear to him? Question the friendship of those that had accompanied him on his travels, who had fought alongside him in so many battles? His breathing grew heavier and more irregular at every brooding thought that entered his head. _No_. He had beaten the disease. It had no power over him now. It had not made him blind to see the folly of imprisoning his own kin, of denying the possibility that they were innocent. That their ancestors, their entire clan had not been guilty of the crime that had led to their banishment. He had simply been affected by the parting with Gandalf and Bilbo. That and his grief for his nephews and the weighty responsibility of being the King had temporarily clouded his judgement. _That was all_...

He almost startled and recoiled from the touch when Dís, who must have risen from her chair without so much as a creak or a tinkle, appeared at his side and touched his shoulder lightly. He could feel Balin and Dwalin were close too, making him yearn for their advice -he would not say help, not even to himself as pride alone stopped him there- even more.

"What can I do..?" He whispered pleadingly nonetheless, knowing his Sister understood he had not just been referring to their guests, but also to the gnawing fear that the Serpent's spell still lay on him.

"How can you be at peace with others if you are not even at peace with yourself..?" She told him sternly, then her expression softened and she turned him in her arms to rest her forehead against his.

"Mainni', nadad*. For both our sakes.."

* * *

With no insignificant amount of reluctance did she cup her hands and drowned them once more in the bowl of water in front of her. Though the ice cold liquid had done wonders in waking her up from her deep sleep it also bit at the scratches and gashes on her face and neck, leaving them pricking and stinging. After two more well aimed splashes of water she decided her washing up had been sufficient and she gratefully buried her face in a towel. Relishing the warm and soft embrace of the cloth on her skin as she rubbed it dry -careful not to tear open the wounds and have them start bleeding again- she sank down on the huge four-poster bed that could not have been more different than the woodworm invested bunks in the dungeon cell. The only thing that had not changed was the fact that there were guards stationed outside their chambers, though she had not had the strength to challenge this.

Stretching and repressing a yawn, Edúr had no inkling as to how long she had actually slept, but she could judge by the way her body felt revived that it must, once again, have been many an hour. It was hard to believe she had done nothing but rest for an unbearably long week. She still felt stiff and sore in some places, but it was nothing compared to how she had felt but days ago. Undoubtedly, the assortment of ointments and drafts administered to her by the Healingmaster named Oin had played an indispensable part in curing her of most of the pains and aches that had dug its vengeful claws in her every muscle. The Dwarf with his bushy and somewhat unkempt gray hair had come that first night, moments after Balin had left with Bifur and Bofur. He had practically marched inside and deposited his heavy looking travel chest with a dull thud on the floor, nearly missing her toes in the process. Both Niam and herself had soon found out that the Dwarf, whose beard had been divided into two braids that curled around almost all the way back to their point of origin, was not the type to brook opposition and he had submitted them to a thorough inspection. Edúr had initially tried to resist his prodding and incessant muttering to himself but had admitted defeat when she realized that cooperating would get her the rest she longed for faster.

And so she had patiently waited as Oin had busied himself with turning her around in his hands and lifting and bending -not too carefully- a limb or two to ascertain the lack of any sprains or fractures, all the while a most peculiar tool dangling on a cord around his neck. She had never seen an ear trumpet quite as battered and deformed as the copper one he occasionally buried so deep in his ear she was not sure it was still serving its purpose. A suspicion that had only been strengthened when he had held it uncomfortably close to her mouth whenever she had replied to his inquiries which made him _tut_ - _tut_ in a disapproving tone even when she had just told him the place on her arm he was roughly jabbing with his stubby finger did not, in fact, evoke any pain to shoot through her entire body.

Fortunately, the quirky Healingmaster had more than made up for his unusual methods with his skillful treatment of their wounds. She felt particularly grateful that he had treated Morkai too, though she could tell he had not been used to having rebellious Ravens for patients. Even so he had uttered considerably fewer _tut_ - _tuts_ when he had examined Morkai's wing than when he had gauged her injuries and had limited himself to merely muttering complaints directed at the Keeper of Ravens who apparently was too busy with all of the scrolls that needed to be delivered now word was spreading of the rebuilding of Erebor. Something that sounded plausible to Edúr but which by the sound of his moody voice Oin had considered a feeble excuse to abandon his other duties. She had wisely kept quiet at this, not wanting to point out that Morkai had in fact behaved uncharacteristically even-tempered with him, only snapping his beak warningly once or twice too.

The moment Oin had left, however, they had willfully ignored his orders to go to bed and Niam and herself had first all but ravaged the food that had been set out for them. Her frustration might have fed her for a while, but after their wounds had been treated she had realized just how starving she had been. Too tired to talk they had instead sunk their teeth in succulent meat, chewed on crunchy bread and devoured a hearty stew, not caring to spill on their clothes nor mind that their fingers were soon covered in grease. Stomachs filled they had both succumbed to sleep almost instantly after retreating to their bedrooms.

There was a sudden stirring sound coming from above her accompanied by a very distinctively happy murmuring, almost like the purring of a cat. A smile appeared on her face and Edúr looked up to greet her Raven now he had also woken. Morkai had nestled himself on one of the corner posts of her bed, right where the canopy came together in a bundle of wine-colored chenille that wore the same zigzagging pattern as the bedcovers. At first languidly stretching both wings, his left seemed to respond fairly well though it still appeared a little uncooperative, Morkai soon fluttered down to her. She whispered softly to the Raven in his own language -something her grandmother had taught her so many moons ago it had often seemed like she had sat with her and her Ravens under that old withered oak in a different life- while the black bird hopped on her lap cocking his head to the side as he listened and cawed in reply now and then as she told him one of his favorite and ancient riddles.

Morkai had almost dozed off again -forgetful as he often was to remember the answers to the older puzzles or the tricks to crack them- when, upon casting an inquisitive glance around her room, Edúr realized there was a shutter and inevitably a window on the wall opposite the bed. It had been so dark at night and during the day she had spent her time in the main chamber with Niam -talking or staring absentmindedly at the fire blazing in the hearth- she had not noticed it until now as daylight was trying to peek through the crooked grooves and furrows running like rivers across the wood. Giving in to the impulse to see what view it hid from sight she nudged Morkai off her lap -which he answered with a disgruntled screech in protest- and tiptoed towards it. She shivered slightly as her bare feet left the woolen rug and touched the cold marble floor but it did not stop her from reaching out for the latch and giving the gnarled wood a mighty push. It flung open at her bidding and she found herself instantly silenced by the breathtaking view behind it. Stretching out below her was the valley between Erebor and Dale, the city still bearing the scars of first a Fire Drake's attack and then the slow, crippling decay of time itself. Edúr leaned forward, hands resting on the windowsill and let her eyes rove over the collection of red-roofed buildings clinging to the hill on which they were built. Turning her head to the right she could make out the ragged shape of Bâha-zunsh-hund*, its crown of crumbling pillars like the gaping mouth of a monster with jagged and broken teeth. It was hard to believe she was truly staring out at what had been only a legend told to her by her parents and kin. Lastly, and directly below, she could discern the back of the helmet one of the Dwarven statues wore. Even though still at a considerable distance she almost felt she had but to stretch her fingers to touch the carved and ancient stone.

She heard the flapping of wings when Morkai joined her, planting his claws in her shoulder for support and clapping his beak. Edúr froze as she unraveled the string of croaks he let out, her heart missing a beat when, narrowing her eyes, she too spotted the first thick snowflakes that started to tumble down like flower petals of the purest white. The sight of the ice crystals falling leisurely from the sky towards the ground in an increasing and steady pace involuntarily brought tears to her eyes. _Winter had come_... She had known that the chances of her and Niam making it back to her Clan's Keep to help her father -if he was even still alive-had been slim. Now, they were practically non-existent. Even if here it had only just begun to snow, it would mean that far North the land would be covered in a thick blanket of it already. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew it would be a one way trip if they were to venture in that direction. Morkai gently nibbled her earlobe in support, letting out a melancholy call afterwards. It had sounded too much like a lament to hold on to the last remaining hope as it inevitably threatened to leave her now.

There were sounds coming from the main chamber, making her stir again. She closed the shutter with a loud bang and turned on her heels so swiftly that Morkai took off and retreated to his nest-like hiding place on top of the bed. Mumbling a hasty apology towards him, Edúr cast a quick look around for her tunic, trousers and cloak that were still nowhere to be found. She vaguely remembered a timid servant having come to collect them when Oin had had them stripped to their underclothes for his examination to have them cleaned. Edúr bit her lip, she wanted to have them back, even more so now it seemed they were about the only tangible thing left of her Clan. Moreover, having worn them for days on end she felt almost naked without them and every fiber of her being still protested as strongly against wearing one of the dresses laid out for her as they had done at the beginning of the week. Giving up her frantic search she had almost dashed out of her room when her eyes stumbled upon the garment hung on a hook on the door. The indistinct and undefinable sounds coming from the main chamber made her hurry and she swung the velvet robe over her shoulders, slid her arms in the sleeves and tied the sash in a sloppy knot.

At first she wondered whether she had imagined the muffled sounds on the other side of the door when, upon opening it and stepping out into the chamber beyond, there was no one to be seen. Then she identified the rapping sound to be that of someone knocking on the door leading to the hallway. Her cousin was already in front of it and pulled the handle to reveal a familiar white-haired Dwarf. On the verge of knocking once more Balin all but stumbled inside when the back of his raised fist met nothing but air. Niam hastily lend him his support and, after giving him a grateful wink, both Dwarves walked over to her.

"I trust a good night's rest has made the both of you feel better?" Balin inquired good-humoredly, as he had done every morning for the week past, and went on without delay the moment he had received an affirmative nod from the both of them, "Good, good. Well, I am glad to see it. And even more relieved that now you are stronger again I think it is high time to inform you that the misunderstanding which had you.. _Ahem_.." He harrumphed in apparent embarrassment and bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment before resuming with a steadier voice, "The, erm, most unfortunate misunderstanding which had you ending up as our prisoners has been cleared. Though far later than it should have been done, rest assured that your grandfather's honor has been fully restored. There is none now who would ever doubt it again."

He gave both of them a long, meaningful look in turn as if to make sure they understood everything he had said and implied, prompting Niam to place his hand on the old Dwarf's shoulder, saying earnestly, "And we are grateful for it."

Edúr nodded, heart not entirely in it even though she was starting to trust Balin, with his kindness and honesty it was hard not to. She attempted to swallow down the misgivings still gnawing at her but failed miserably and finally decided to voice them, "No one?" She hoped that her look of sincerity acquitted her of appearing to have wanted to blame the old Dwarf himself, after all it was not _his_ integrity she was still doubting. Balin seemed to have no trouble in picking up on the real target of that question which she feared had sounded much like the accusation it was.

"Aye. No one." He told her solemnly. Edúr nodded again, this time she hoped it was more convincing than it had been before. Clearly assuming everything had been dealt with splendidly when she remained silent after this he hummed a satisfied _hum_ and mimicked her nod by dipping his chin to his chest.

"Good, good." Balin mumbled again when his head snapped back up, hands patting his round belly before he hooked his fingers behind his belt, "And with that matter resolved you are now our honorable guests and thus free to move around Erebor, explore all its nooks and crannies to your heart's content."

Niam's face instantly lit up at this and he grinned in eager anticipation. Edúr felt a similar curiosity stir in her but she mercilessly pushed it aside as another worry welled up inside of her, "What about the threat to the King's life?"

"Ah.. Well.. Erm.." Balin started to rock on the balls of his feet once more, clearly not having expected for her to ask him, especially now he had thought to have taken the most thorny obstacle already.

"He does not believe us." Edúr interpreted the Dwarf's apparent indecisiveness, anger flaring up.

"His head does. Maybe his heart needs a little more time." Balin suggested in a brave attempt to adjust her statement by neither completely denying nor confirming it.

"What was the point in us coming here if he does not believe us?"

"Your coming was not in vain, nor was the fate your people suffered because of it. For I believe you. And there are others too. Give it some time, lass." He squeezed her arm in a fatherly way, giving her the impression that he had somehow gotten used to dealing with her impatience already.

"Time?! That is the one thing we do not have.." Despite the Dwarf's well-meant gesture of consolation she could not help but sound as exasperated as she felt. She threw Niam a pleading look, feeling relieved almost to see the same restlessness reflected in his eyes. It was not just impossible for her, it seemed, to shake the growing uneasiness as she thought of the snow falling outside and how each of those snowflakes reaching the ground decreased their chances of returning even more. The old Dwarf sighed, patting both their shoulders in genuine sympathy, causing the sliver of distrust that had remained to melt away under his warm and compassionate gaze.

"Always one step ahead of me, it would seem, Balin."

The three of them looked up as one when a Dwarrowdam stood framed by the doorway, her black dress clinging to her more like a shadow than a garment. It danced around her ankles when she stepped over the threshold and glided over to them accompanied by a clear ringing sound of earrings swaying. Her head was adorned with black pearls that gleamed like beads and not a single light grey hair was out of place as it had been put up in a complex twisting and turning of fine braids. Edúr knew instantly of whom the Dwarrodam's formidable presence reminded her, but unlike the King under the Mountain there was an openness to her that her unrestrained voice had suggested. Nevertheless, she was as beautiful as she was intimidating and she felt strangely ashamed of being dressed in but a robe which was not even her own.

The old Dwarf bowed a deep bow the moment the Dwarrowdam had neared them, murmuring in a respectful tone, "I doubt it, Lady Dís. More like five paces behind."

Probably aware of the fact she did not need to introduce herself more formally she inclined her head towards herself and Niam, remarking teasingly as she directed herself at Balin again, "You flatter me, as you are well aware, my friend." She laughed a honeysweet laugh, then her expression morphed into one far more serious and she allowed for a silence before saying in a sober tone, "You must be the Lady Edúr, Daughter of Edrík, and Niam, Son of Efrain. I am sorry I have not managed to visit you before now but do know you have my eternal gratitude for coming to us despite the perilous journey it must have been from the Keep of our Brethren in the far North. Normally I do not involve myself with court business but maybe in future I should make more of an effort, if only to make sure my dearest Brother does not send guests down to stay in the vaults instead of having them brought to the private chambers that they deserve."

"That matter has been resolved, Lady Dís." Niam was quick to assure her, intentionally echoing Balin's earlier words, even sending him one of his own kindhearted winks when he bowed in both reverence and unmistakable admiration. The old dwarf chuckled and Dís smiled appreciatively, "I am glad of it. Though resolved is still a long way removed from forgiveness, I think."

It took Edúr a moment to realize she had been referring to her unintentionally brooding silence that had only grown stronger each day she had been stuck in their chambers, convalescing or not. She stammered an awkward apology but could not finish it when Dís stopped her with an elegant wave of her hand, "No, I quite agree, forgiveness should not be readily given, it needs to be earned. That is why I invite you to the feast tonight." Foreshadowing her hesitation to accept, the Dwarrowdam added more firmly, "Please, I insist."

It struck her as odd that those two contradictory phrases -one an entreaty, the other a pressing request- had been crammed into one sentence, and yet like Balin there was such an amount of goodness in her eyes that it was hard to doubt her sincerity.

"It will only be a small, informal gathering but your presence would be most appreciated and welcome." Dís hastened to set their minds at ease now Edúr had turned towards her cousin and exchanged a look in silent consultation. Before she had so much as inclined her head as a sign of -tentative- approval, Niam lost no time and gracefully accepted on behalf of them both.

Offering his arm to Lady Dís and making to go, Balin's eyes twinkled before he spoke hopefully, "That tonight, tomorrow and every day hence, Erebor may be the home to you that it is to us."

Niam walked with them to the door and she could hear him warmly expressing his gratitude in his usual charming way. Rooted to the spot Edúr remained behind though the others seemed not to notice. _Home_... The word had sounded so strange having been uttered here in a Keep not their own. A hollow and lifeless word she could only imagine as a fish out of water that was gulping air and thrashed about helplessly on the cold marble at her feet.

~Thanks for Reading & Please Review! (^-^b)~

* * *

* "Mainni', Nadad." = "Be strengthened, brother."

Bâha-zunsh-hund = Ravenhill

 **A/N:** I couldn't resist any longer to put in some Khuzdul, even though I'll undoubtedly make a lot of mistakes with it, it's too much fun not to try so bear with me as I may give in to the temptation again in the upcoming chapters ;) Also, please forgive me if my translations don't make any sense, I'm obviously not an expert on Dwarven language, that would be the amazing Dwarrow scholar; a huge thank you for that fantastic Khuzdul dictionary, it's such a great source of inspiration!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows! :)**

 _Dantae Ophydain: Thank you for leaving me a review! I hope you'll like the rest of the story too!_

 _DD: I'm glad you're enjoying it, it's been great fun writing this story and your positive review really motivates me to continue with it; thank you!_

 _Ellie: Thank you! :) I'm trying my hardest to update twice a week, hope you'll stay tuned for the rest of the story!_

 _Angie: Lady Dís was definitely fun but also tricky to write, I hope I can have her stay in character and show how she supports Thorin, and yes you're right, with Dragon Sickness still in his blood he's going to need all the help he can get (and it won't just be Dís helping him with that ;). Hope you'll enjoy the feast, I'm not sure Thorin and Edúr will though haha ;P_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter VIII**

NORMALLY he would have laughed, internally at the very least, at the comical sight Balin represented. The Dwarf was carrying a dozen deeds and contracts that trailed after him like banners made out of parchments. Elbows clamped to his side to clinch those thinking of escaping in a dutiful attempt not to litter the Mountain with any official documents, he somehow managed to clutch a pocket glass tightly in one hand. Now and then he pressed the device to his eye to scrupulously check scribbled runes over the bridge of his nose. Even though they were on their way back to the Council Chamber, Balin skillfully navigated his way around fellow Dwarves and the odd obstacle, not missing a single turn in the maze that Erebor could be even to those that had lived there for many years. Thorin walked just a little in front of him, barely registering where he was going let alone have the steady stream of words directed at him even enter his head. Unaware of his companion's absence of mind the old Dwarf diligently kept on reading out bits and pieces of contracts he still needed to sign, as well as harrumphing in both amusement and repugnance at some of the more demanding stipulations.

A sigh of relief almost passed Thorin's lips when they finally reached their destination. Even though it was stuffy in the small octagonal room, once the guards had closed the door behind them he felt like he could breathe more freely again. It was not that he did not feel at ease in other parts of the Mountain that they visited on their almost daily rounds of inspection, but somehow inside the Council Chamber he felt safest. _Harbored_. Though he would never admit this aloud. He relished the fact that unless the Council was gathered around the long table there were usually no prying eyes or strained ears that could reach him. And although Balin -who had not taken a seat but instead continued to walk in circles around the table in the same manner he had just crossed through Erebor- was often here with him, accompanied by either Dwalin or his Sister, he had spent most of his hours here alone. Something he felt particularly in need of every time the last remnants of that sly Serpent's spell seemed to constrict his very movement, close his throat to air and spur his heart to throb painfully against his ribs. He would then sit in one of the wooden armchairs near the fire, close his eyes and try to forget that fervid longing to forever wander through those treasure filled vaults of Erebor.

He felt ashamed to still be struggling to overcome Dragon Sickness. It was foolish of him to not want to go down to the vaults, for that one time he had attempted it the gold glow alone of it against the walls had made him feel feverish again even before he had reached the lower levels. He feared Balin was beginning to suspect he intentionally steered clear of it, focusing instead on the forges, mines and the upper levels that needed all his attention to be rebuild. His sister was well aware of his fear already he knew, precious little escaped her notice, and he felt a coward for postponing the moment on which he had to come face to face with it: With the mountains of golden coins and gilded cups within the mountain of earth and rock. But he could not readily forget how the very floor of the Gallery of Kings, a solid lake of gold, had seemed to ripple and become liquid underfoot. How it had threatened to swallow him whole and have him sink to its immeasurable depth as the shadow of the Dragon snaked its way across the rehardened surface. And he still trembled at the mere memory of it as he kept repeating to himself: _he was not his grandfather_...

It must have been an hour at least since Balin had left him, thankfully none the wiser of the inner battle he was waging against himself, when there was a rap on the door. A guard shuffled inside and even before he spoke Thorin realized he must have lost track of time. Thanking the young Dwarf for his conscientious reminder he made an effort to close off that part of him still in turmoil and strode out of the room. On his way to the dining-hall he hoped Dís was in a good mood, she was strict when it came to protocol and it would not do for a King to be late. Despite his gloominess his mouth quirked at that thought, especially now tonight's feast was bound to be very different from the usual formal dinners with noble families he had had to endure more times than he cared to remember. The prospect of an evening in the company of the only Dwarves he really trusted might just be what he needed. Entering the hall, however, he could not have met with a more unlikely candidate to fit into that category.

Finding himself face to face with the Dwarrow maiden from the North instantly stopped him in his tracks and he furrowed his brows with no small degree of wariness.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded in a low growl, cursing the fact that his eyes seemed locked in place and would not stray from her face no matter how hard he tried to tear them away. Her skin was still pale but only now, with the mud and blood washed off, did he see the ivory smoothness of it. Her hair was fair like Fili's -inadvertently making him remember his fallen heir with stinging regret- but of a slightly darker shade and possessing a warmer hue like that of amber. Free of grit, twigs and leaves it cascaded down to her midriff and was only divided by her slender shoulders like a waterfall would be split by a rock. Her eyes -that mysterious blue that somehow made him think of _Kheled-zâram_ * and the drowned stars that sparkled in the deep- seemed to waver, rapidly moving from left to right as they were though she did not avert them from his own.

"We are here for the feast. Your Majesty.." The Dwarrow next to her explained, hesitantly adding his title.

"I was not aware that you would be allowed to attend it." He grunted back, not shifting his gaze to him for he could see her eyes narrow as she no doubt readied herself to bite back.

"If it is against your wishes you should not have invited us."

"I do not recall that I did-"

"But I do." A familiar and much gentler voice suddenly interjected.

"Sister." Although he knew the tone of his greeting of her alone had told Dís it had been a demand for an explanation at the same time, she chose to ignore it and whisked both Dwarves off before he could stop her. No longer staring into those unnervingly enigmatic eyes that had send shivers down his spine it took him a few more seconds to realize they had left him standing at the door. His mood gone from gloomy to short-lived hopefulness and back to dark in the matter of minutes, Thorin walked past the Dwarves already gathered around a table laden with food and grudgingly took his own seat at the head of it.

He found it impossible to join in the lively chatter or boisterous laughter around him and his brows only creased more as Bofur more than once burst into a song upon which the rest of the Dwarves used anything within reach -be it cutlery, plate or goblet- to accompany the merry tune. From the corner of his eyes he observed the Dwarrow conversing amiably with Nori and Bofur on his right and opposite him while Ori and Oin listened in, the first with shoulders hunched in shyness and the latter with his shriveled ear trumpet aimed at one of the three Dwarves in turn. Dís, sitting to his right, had clearly taken the maiden under her wing -something which annoyed him greatly- and leaned towards her now and then to provide the names to the faces around them in something close to a conspiratorially whisper, no doubt throwing in a detailed background story too with most if not all. Balin, on his left, was not less attentive towards her and bravely tried to make her feel comfortable, talking in his usual kind manner. His brother, on the other hand, simply focused on emptying and refilling his plate with a zeal only equaled by that with which he entered battle, though his stern eyes were fixed on his Sister's newly acquired protégé, in all likelihood prompted by the same wary distrust he himself felt growing stronger the more he stole glances at her solemn face.

Now Dwalin was impervious to his current mood, it was all the more inconvenient that Dain was seated near the far end corner of the table, wedged in between Gloín and Dori. The three of them had been engaged for some time now in a retelling of what he suspected must be his cousin's timely arrival from the Iron Hills at the onset of the Battle of the Five Armies. It seemed he would not even be able to get some business done that he needed to discuss with Dain tonight. Closing his fingers around the goblet in front of him he vented his frustration by either tapping its copper surface or rubbing the curved edge of it. Lost in thought it took him a moment to become aware of Dís suddenly turning to him, saying in her always composed voice to both himself and the maiden it would seem, "If neither of you will eat anything, surely it makes sense to talk instead. Why don't you ask him anything you want, I am sure my Brother will answer you."

Thorin reluctantly shifted his gaze from his Sister to the plate next to hers, realizing at once he had not been the only one not touching his food. Any sympathy that had briefly emerged -the sentiment taking him by surprise too- was instantly quenched when she seemed to come to life at his Sister's suggestion. With a sense of foreboding he straightened in his seat, planted his elbows demonstratively on the table and enveloped his balled fist with his other hand.

"Will you go to Gundabad?" There was that fierceness again, as if she had kept quiet on purpose until now, lying in wait to strike at him again. More than one conversation faltered and any laughter or singing dwindled into oblivion at the mere sound of their hated enemies' fortress. He could feel a dozen pair of eyes turn slowly towards the two of them.

"No." He answered her tersely, fixing her with a glare which he did not doubt conveyed the finality of both his tone and that statement. "With winter already upon us it would be futile to attempt it."

She pushed herself to her feet, fingers sprawled out on the table in front of her, "Then you will have to forgive us for not remaining here when every orc left in that accursed fortress will come here to crush the line of Durin for good."

He gnashed his teeth at her hostility though was unimpressed by the empty threat, "Be that as it may, you will not leave Erebor, I will not allow it."

From the corner of his eyes he could see Balin had covered his eyes with his hand as if he did not want to witness what he had undoubtedly been trying to prevent from happening. Dís was similarly dismayed and cocked her head in his direction in a gesture of repressed reproach whereas Dwalin's fixed stare had morphed into an ominous scowl.

The Dwarrow -visibly nervous and worried at the same time- tried to pull his companion gently back down by clasping her wrist in his hand but she shook it off without turning to look at him, "I would have assumed you would preferred to have the offspring of traitors on the other side of your gates."

He could have sworn Dwalin's brows had actually twitched as she had said it, while her cousin bit his lower lip and had grown very pale indeed. Why was it that all she had done was challenge him from the moment she had arrived? His patience with her was growing dangerously thin. He opened his mouth to retort but the words died on his lips when he caught Dís' warning look and heard Balin clearing his throat meaningfully. Instantly aggravated as he was at a complete loss why they apparently were bent on conspiring against him, he failed to see the justice in him having to check himself and his rage when she did not. He sighed, forcing himself to let his gaze wander over the many faces turned towards him which sobered him up if only a little. As their King, he could not allow himself to be goaded into saying things he might come to regret, no matter how impossible that noble resolution seemed at the moment especially seeing his strength had been already overtaxed today.

"I see now that my judgement of you might have been.. Hasty." He eventually admitted with a snarl before the images that had plagued him earlier that evening -the entire day if not the week if he was honest with himself- suddenly made his angry resolve waver and he found himself adding in a low voice, "In a way your grandfather was as much a victim of that terrible love that the longing for gold is as mine was. Just as you were close to becoming of that which remains in my blood it would seem..."

He swallowed hard, eyes focusing on the lines of his clasped hands as he fully realized he had confessed to something he perceived as a weakness for which he could not yet forgive himself. The Dwarrow maiden remained silent, when he cautiously flicked a look at her he could judge by the furrowing of her brows that she was turning what he had said around in her mind. Then her eyes widened and he knew -with his heart skipping a beat- that the barely concealed truth of those words had fully dawned on her. Before she could recover from her initial confusion he added hastily to forestall anything she might have to say on the subject, "We will not talk of this again. Be it known that I bear you no ill will and shall repay you with as much trust as you are deserving of. I expect the reverse to be true also." He cared little that he had sounded impatient and authoritative but she herself did not look like that sentiment was even remotely mutual at the moment so he had not bothered to adjust it. She remained standing, a grave look on her face.

"Sit down." His tone far from conciliatory he did not avert his eyes from hers but she did not stir or respond in any way and merely balled her fists.

"You think it wise to refuse a king?" He spat out now he was growing tired with her defiance.

"I deem it wise to refuse any order given by someone that expects trust of those for whom he does not hold any, be he beggar or king, friend or foe."

"You speak as if we were at war. Look around you, I have brought peace." He had meant it as a taunt and spread his arms both in demonstration of his claim and to ward off her obvious insult.

"But at what cost?" She hissed, trembling with the fury she now unleashed, "If you had not returned to reclaim a kingdom lost long ago, to satisfy your desire to sit on a throne in an empty hall upon a pile of worthless gold to count dusty gems, jewels and rubies and find them more valuable than the lives squandered along the way.. If you had not returned then evil might have slept soundly for eternity, ruin would not have come upon these lands. My clan might still be here if not for your petty, selfish quest. Their lives would not have been lost-"

"Do not speak to me of loss…!" He roared, pushing his seat back so hard as he raised himself that it scraped the floor and nearly toppled backwards.

She did not flinch but merely sneered at him and he half expected her to spit fire next, "I only wish someone had done it sooner for it might have saved us both form going on a fool's errand."

"You should not have come to Erebor." He was breathing heavily now, emotion he would normally never allow to reach the surface threatening to spill out.

"Neither should you..!" She retaliated in kind, knocking over the goblet in front of her with a deliberate flick of the back of her hand and storming off with her cousin hurrying after her.

Thorin sagged back in his seat in a deadly silence, all previous mirth had fled from the room, not that he had felt a part of it tonight. Consumed by his anger he was only half aware of the sound of murmuring and whispers the volume of which steadily grew. He stubbornly refused to look at anyone and stared at his plate instead only to realize what little of an appetite he had had was now completely gone, he was not even sure it would ever return. Apparently it was not enough to insult and argue with him in front of everyone but she had to take that away from him too. Grinding his teeth he stared at the puddle of wine, cursing under his breath as an insane longing filled him: _if only with it he could wash away the image of her hauntingly beautiful face_..! Not knowing whether he was angrier with himself or Edúr, Daughter of Edrík, Thorin returned to tapping his fingers restlessly against his own goblet, pensively watching hers as it slowly stopped spinning in the spilled, deep purplish-red liquid, glimmering on the table like a sinister and macabre bloodstain.

~Thanks for Reading & Please Review! (^-^b)~

* * *

* _Kheled-zâram = Lake Mirrormere_

 _Not a lot of Khuzdul in this chapter but I still want to give a huge thank you to the wonderful Dwarrow Scholar for his extensive Khuzdul dictionary!_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N** **(July 6** **th** **2016)** **:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows, I really appreciate all of your support and feedback! :)**

 _Guest: Thanks! It's a huge confidence boost when someone says they like my writing style ;)_

 _Star: I'm so glad you felt sucked into the story because of the descriptions, it's always hard to judge whether readers will get transported into the world I'm describing or if the details are too much of an overkill for that ;p Anyways, thank you for leaving me a review!_

 _Angie: No need to thank me, seriously, I should be thanking you instead for being such a loyal reviewer! :) There'll be quite some friction between those two this chapter too, but their hostility won't last forever, I promise ;)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter IX**

HIS face had been imprinted on her eyes it seemed for it was all that she had been able to see when she had at long last fallen asleep with the wooly blanket drawn all the way over her head, and it was still there now as she woke up. Edúr had desperately tried to hold on to the image of the potato-nosed, wild-haired Dwarven King but it would not do. Although she could not explain to herself why it mattered, she was more than a little thrown off balance at finding out that Thorin Oakenshield was in fact much more handsome than her imagination had made him out to be. And no matter how hard she wanted to, she could not now readily forget those eyes the mysterious color of a full moon partly hidden behind dark clouds. Nor could she help but remember but all too vividly how his Raven-black, long hair with silver strands running through it had framed the chiseled features of his face, the lower half of which was covered by a short beard grown around the edges of his chin but not beyond.

She was more than thankful that Niam had not been able to guess at whose face had been dominating her thoughts when he had entered her room, obvious concern etched on his face. Apparently it had been past midday already, something that had wholly escaped her seeing she felt like she had only just fallen asleep though that must have happened some time far into the night after what might have been hours of her restless twisting and turning. He had left again quickly when she had seemed in no better mood than last night to spend the rest of the day with Bofur who had suggested to show him around the mines. Apart from the fact that she could not bear to see any of the Dwarves that had been present at the feast yesterday, she felt too frustrated still to think it a good idea to join him as they would follow narrow and winding paths passed deep shafts it would now feel too tempting to disappear in. And so he had gone without her but not before telling her with a grave sincerity most unlike him that even though he understood how hard it was to accept, they were here for the winter -maybe even longer- and antagonizing the King could serve no further purpose.

It had taken her a while to let that advice sink in, but she realized it did deserve her honest reflection. Orphaned at a young age, Niam had been raised alongside her like a sibling and had never gainsaid her out of spite or equally ignoble sentiments. Loyal to a fault as he was, she knew it must have taken courage to speak his mind as he had done this morning. Nevertheless, as much as his suggestion made sense to her on a rational level, she felt it was impossible at the moment to implement it. Nor did she care to consider that her own anger towards the King might have been why he had hurled it back at her with an intensity that she felt both repelled against and drawn to. He might have admitted, grudgingly but still, that he had been wrong. Had more or less even come close to apologizing in his gruff manner that her grandfather was not guilty of the alleged assassination attempt on Thror's life. But he had also refused to believe her and take the threat of Gundabad -the danger to his own life- seriously. It infuriated her to think that they had essentially failed to accomplish what they had set out to do and it was difficult to shake off that sense of haste and urgency when but a week ago they had arrived -anxious and filled with not wholly unfounded trepidation- after a hellish four day trek to get here.

And then there was something else that had gnawed at her ever since returning from the feast yesterday evening. Even now she doubted the King had really said what she thought he had. For how could it be true? There had been rumors, of course. Most of those flying around somehow managed to reach even their isolated Keep. But like her father she had dismissed most of them. And so they had not deemed it possible for there to be any truth in the one that said Thorin, Son of Thráin, Son of Thror, had inherited his grandfather's doom. That the lust for gold and the temptation of Erebor's treasure had lured him into madness. Worse even. That he had fallen under the Serpent's spell, whether the beast had been slain or not. But if this was not a lie how could he still be under its malevolent influence? How could the King under the Mountain rule his domain when he suffered from Dragon Sickness...?

Edúr shivered, and not just because of that last, unsettling thought. Despite all of her pacing, the underclothing she wore and had slept in was hardly sufficient to keep her warm. She was relieved to see that her tunic still hung over the back of the chair next to her bed. It had been returned just in time for the feast last evening, saving her the embarrassment of having to attend it in one of the exquisite looking and richly embroidered dresses provided for her. Pulling her own clothes back on now she felt the same twang of guilt she had before. The reason why it had taken so long for them to be returned to her was because they had been thoroughly cleaned and delicately mended. The fact that any stitches were invisible to the eye told her it had been remarkable craftsmanship that had made the tunic fit for wearing again. At the moment, though, she felt hardly deserving for the generosity and thoughtfulness of it.

Before her frustration would build up again, which it was wont to do if she remained cooped up in their chambers for another hour, she made up her mind to leave them for a bit. She had wanted to call out to Morkai -half expecting the flapping of his wings before he would swoop down on her shoulder- when she remembered he had taken to circling the Lonely Mountain when she lost track of everything around her in her brooding. And so there was nothing for it but to venture out on her own. Without any clear idea of where to go, though anywhere but their chambers would be a welcome distraction, she closed the door behind her and stood a little forlorn in front of it. She had only just decided to find out where the hallway on her right would lead her when a familiar voice called out her name.

Niam had just turned a corner on the opposite end of the otherwise deserted corridor and now quickened his pace at the sight of her. Closely behind him were Balin and Bofur, the first humming like a bumblebee in a friendly greeting and the other jovially raising his hand and wearing an earsplitting grin. Edúr felt a biting embarrassment instantly creep up on her and the first thing she had wanted to do was to apologize the moment the three Dwarves had reached her. Before she had even forced her awkward stammering into a coherent sentence, however, Balin stopped her short, "Not to worry, lass. We all get carried away sometimes and Durin knows you have but recently faced hardships that justify it. Well, we all have. The King included."

Edúr was halfway ready to express her gratitude to the old Dwarf when she froze at his last words. It was one thing to be forgiven by Balin -and by extension she hoped the rest of the company, not to forget the Lady Dís-, it was quite another to, in doing so, she would also admit compassion for the cold-hearted Dwarf she fervently wished she had never met. Fortunately the three Dwarves were oblivious to the dark frown now creasing her forehead and Bofur lost no time in seconding what his companion had just assured her of, patting her supportively on the back as he did.

"Aye, nothing to apologize for. I am just glad you are still in one piece. After all, not every Dwarf can stand his ground when Thorin is in a bad mood."

" _Her_ ground." Balin corrected him knowingly, adding with one of his good-humored winks, "Still, I agree, quite the achievement in its own right."

Edúr found herself staring at her own feet after this while Niam's lighthearted laugh bounced off the walls around them soon followed both by Bofur's contagious chortling and Balin's light humming. The sound of mirth brought tears to her eyes as she realized how much she yearned to join in it but the combined weight of the sadness and anger reigning her heart smothered her smile before it could curve her lips. Undoubtedly picking up on her inner conflict of emotions Niam tactfully changed the topic, mercifully drawing attention away from her too, and before she knew it they were on their way to the Library in an attempt to quench the thirst her cousin honestly confessed to feel for the many tales of old that their race possessed. With the conversation flowing on without her, Edúr could no longer rein in her curiosity and she gorged on the extraordinary place that Erebor was. She almost longed for another pair of eyes as she took in the magnificent Keep where Durin's descendants had dwelled for so long. Its sheer size was overwhelming and she had to give up trying to fathom the layout of it that seemed to her so intricate she wondered how any of the Dwarves milling around them -among them warriors, miners, craftsmen, merchants and many others- could navigate the labyrinth of corridors and archways crossing under and over each other, let alone resist to constantly stop to wonder at the breathtaking Halls and the large statues in it, the latter of which she only occasionally caught a tantalizing glimpse of. And all of it hewn out of that purest marble a stormy green-white sea which she imagined many hands to have carved to perfection.

Too soon for her liking -it was excessively hard to tear her eyes away from the beauty of the ancient old Mountain Hall now her appreciation and awe of it had finally been awakened- they reached their destination. Two guards stationed outside of the Library seemingly sprang to life at their coming and pushed open a massive iron gate covered with a layer of gold dust it appeared. Just like in the rest of Erebor, the vast space they entered was lit by crackling fires locked in cages of wrought iron, the blackened material the only one strong enough to tame the licking flames. Balin, it soon turned out and she was little surprised by it, was a master of Dwarven Lore and he needed little incentive from them to plunge from one story into the next now they were in the company of rows upon rows of scrolls of wisdom and legends. Although she had been born here, being so young when they had had to leave she had always been just as keen on learning about Erebor and the other Dwarven Kingdoms as Niam had been. Seeing his face lit up now much as it would do when they would both question -pester even on some occasions- her grandfather for another tale it struck her how quick she was always to forget that he was so many years younger than she was. And yet, the hard life in the North somehow had made the lines in his face more pronounced and he looked deceptively mature for his age.

The fact that he was here now with her, that he was still alive and would forever too remember all the others of their Clan, released a wave of gratitude that crashed into her at full force. For a moment she forgot to listen as Balin tirelessly continued his story telling, helped by Bofur now and then when the old Dwarf's tendency to embellish and glorify prompted him to reveal the ugly side of history with as much tact as a troll would exhibit when reciting poetry. By the looks of it her cousin's contagious hunger to know more about the past had not yet been saturated an hour or two after entering the Library. She suspected that, considering that her parents had never been too pleased with grandfather sharing his knowledge of Dwarven legends with them as young Dwarrowlings, somehow made the unlimited access to it now a bit like tasting a rare and forbidden fruit that only made you long for more.

After another hour or so, Bofur started to rummage through the myriad of scrolls, all stacked neatly on dust covered shelves, upturning many an old book in the process which had Balin mutter under his breath, no doubt the written knowledge recorded by their ancestors were as precious to him as babes were to their mothers. Repressing a bemused grin that Niam next to her had not been able to keep from his own face, Edúr had just leaned forward to have a better look at the scroll of her choosing when Bofur let out a triumphant 'Ha!' and made the three of them look up. He got off the stool he had been standing on, causing snippets of parchment to crinkle and rustle as he scuffed his way to them. Following him there was a rain of dust that made everyone hurriedly cover their mouths and go into coughing fits except for Bofur. He laughed a belly laugh as he dropped a board game on the table they had been using with such a loud _bang_ that it had Balin retract his neck between his shoulders much like a startled tortoise. Soon recovering, the old Dwarf's eyes grew wide as he took in the object planted before him.

"Bless my beard! It is a set of _a'mug_ _rûrîk_ _*_!" He exclaimed, gingerly wiping the dust off the checkered board.

"And in perfect condition too!" Bofur chimed in as if this was the luckiest of miracles, shaking a wooden box containing the ivory pieces belonging to the game in his hands and holding it close to his ear as if the percussive sound itself was enough of an indication of that. He quickly handed it over when Balin threw him a displeased look though his broad grin lost none of its enthusiasm. Both Niam and Bofur looking over the old Dwarf's shoulder as he carefully took out each piece from the box and placed them on their corresponding spaces on the board, she was the first to pick up the sound of approaching footsteps. Next instant she recognized the bald, tough looking Dwarf that walked in as the one Dís had informed her was named Dwalin. She instantly felt the color rising to her cheeks as she remembered the piercing stare he had given her as he had been seated opposite her yesterday. He halted and seemed to wait for someone that had apparently remained behind to talk to the guards and for a blissful moment Edúr believed her ominous sense of foreboding was unjustified and she would escape his -along with who she feared was his companion- notice altogether when there was movement. She stiffened when she caught a glimpse of long, ink black hair and an indigo sure coat, the mere sight of which instinctively put her on edge.

The King in his turn practically grimaced when he saw her though he did not divert from his steady course towards them, Dwalin loyally falling into step next to him. Edúr followed his stern gaze as it finally left her own face and wandered over the remaining three Dwarves. He arched a brow at seeing the thick layer of dust on Balin's nose and she could have sworn his own to wrinkle as he took in Bofur's floppy hat which was covered in cobwebs and had spiders crawl over it. She thought she could just spot a many-legged family taking up new residence in one of its folds when he shifted his eyes to Niam. Her cousin inclined his head somewhat cautiously but not less respectfully which made the King grumble a curt and reluctant acknowledgement before he clasped his hands on his back. With Balin and Bofur still unaware of the presence of their leader he cast a scrutinizing glance at the scroll they had been studying.

Wishing herself miles away as she knew he would soon realize what she had been reading up on Edúr swallowed hard but could not prevent her eyes from straying from the scroll back to King's face again. He visibly tensed up when he saw the year a diligent scribe had jotted down on the old and withered parchment. For a moment he seemed lost in memories that had such a powerful hold on him it was as if they had transported him back to the past. A pensive expression marring his looks he tenderly traced the fading ink of the runes arranged on the yellowed paper.

"Why is this of interest to you?" He pressed her, looking up with an impressive frown now his fingers had reached the bottom of the log and he had dragged himself back to the present with some effort.

"Thorin!" Balin and Bofur called out in equal surprise, completely wrapped up as they had been in setting up their recently found treasure. The old Dwarf was the first to collect himself though a cloud instantly passed over his face when his eyes dropped to the parchment pinned under the King's fingers.

"Well, erm, 'tis the year Lady Edúr was born here in Erebor. She asked if she might see it.. And, well, I did not see why not, the request was sincere enough, I assure you, looking it up could not do anyone any harm.." He mumbled falteringly, warily studying the King's face for any sign of irritation.

"Only a few moons before.." Dwalin muttered and broke off, warily shaking his head. The tone of disgust in which he had spoken had made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end even though she could not be sure he was referring to her and not the calamity that had struck Erebor shortly after a scribe had worked on this very scroll.

"Aye. Maybe that is why there is something in you that reminds me of the cursed Fire Drake that came that year.." The dark-haired Dwarf next to him weighed in, not bothering to sift the disapproval out of his voice.

"Oh, aye, there is a fire in the lass, alright. But you have to admit the Lady Edúr is a fair bit prettier. Less scaly too!" Bofur chirped jokingly, banging his fist on the table in sheer joy afterwards causing the pieces that had been set on the checkered board to fly into the air and scatter over the table. Niam smiled in amusement and nodded his agreement. Although she was thankful for their support Edúr felt extremely uncomfortable at the badly timed and peculiar compliment she was not even sure was a compliment, it was the last thing which was going to dissolve the steadily building tension now radiating off the King. Clearly not appreciative of the insult he had intended for her to have been turned against him, he glowered at Bofur then turned to Balin as the Dwarf belatedly snorted in good humor.

"I will come back some other time." The King announced bluntly, making to go.

"Oh, no need to leave us again so soon, Thorin." Balin tried to stop him, "We were only recounting tales of old to pass the time, I am sure there are a few that would be better told by you than-"

"Oh, I know!" Bofur overrode the old Dwarf before he could finish his sentence, lifting his finger now a sudden idea had apparently struck him, "Why not sit down to a game of _a'mug_ _rûrîk_? It might have been a long time ago since you last played it but I doubt your skill has left you altogether."

Balin cleared his throat meaningfully while his Brother rolled his eyes, causing his bushy brows to bristle. Niam simply cast his eyes down now the King resembled a Dragon far more than she ever had in her humble opinion as Bofur's suggestion sunk in.

"I think he might be a bit too busy to engage in a Dwarrowling's game." Dwalin scoffed, looking every inch ready to bury his axe in the board to prove his point.

"Or perhaps he might simply not be up to the challenge." Edúr remarked, seized by a sudden urge to retaliate against the ill-temper of the bald Warrior. It was the King himself though that answered her before the Dwarf flanking him could.

"I am sure that if you were to be my opponent it would not prove to be a challenge at all." With that biting sneer he pulled the chair back and sat down, elbows on the gnarled surface of the table and his fingers entwining much like he had readied himself for their heated argument last evening. There was a tense silence that almost crackled the way the air before a summer's storm did, then Bofur clapped his hands and wrung them together, the only Dwarf to be excited at the coming match. Niam eyed her rather apprehensively as she sat down but he moved over to stand next to her in muted support. Behind her she could hear Balin heave a sigh whereas Dwalin looked utterly appalled. Within no time at all Bofur had set the pieces back in their rightful places and Edúr had to yield all of her concentration to keep up with the King as he deftly moved one piece after the other.

Despite his dogged determination she could tell this was the last thing he wanted to do right now. She was not particularly pleased about it either, in fact she would have been more willing to sit down opposite an Elf for a drinking contest. What was more, she was trying to come up with a strategy while at the same time racking her brain to remember all of the complex rules of the game she had not played in many years. Refusing to look directly at her opponent who unwaveringly countered her every move, she instead focused on maneuvering her Warriors and King in such a way that once he realized what she was doing it would be too late to stop her. If he was bent on letting her set the pace and take the initiative, then she would. Although this also meant that she would not hold out much longer in defending her own stronghold, she was at least stealthily closing in on the King's now he was too occupied laying siege to hers. She would not win. But she would also not lose. The one thing she had always liked about _a'mug_ _rûrîk_ whenever she had played it against her father or Niam was the amount of bluffing involved, something she was not even remotely good at in real life. Sometimes it even allowed and necessitated cheating, which is why it baffled her that the King under the Mountain was apparently known to be good in a game that promoted bending the rules.

"You strayed too far from your Keep." He warned her in a low voice that rumbled like thunder when the game was nearing its end. The accusation was not lost on her but she was unwilling to take the bait. She picked up the ivory king in silence, knocking over the four warriors as she moved it diagonally across the board.

Dwalin thumped the table with his fist in barely restrained outrage as he knew what came next. It was not hard to guess whose side he had been on. Not that she had doubted that for a second. The King on the other hand merely looked mildly surprised at her final move which was as altruistic as it was fatalistic. He lifted the Warhammer carrying Dwarven Warrior and nudged her King with it, causing it to wobble dangerously before it lost its balance and rolled off the board. Then, clenching his jaw his fingers grasped his own King and, with the briefest of hesitations, he surrendered the piece to her. Not looking him in the eye she took it without a word and closed her hand around the smooth ivory.

"Ha!" Bofur let out a shout of astonishment, both hands clutching the flaps on his floppy hat.

"A stalemate..." Niam stated solemnly, sounding as if he was torn between being openly pleased or reservedly uneasy.

"Interesting.." Balin mumbled thoughtfully and she could feel his measuring gaze linger on her before he directed it to the King.

"Aye, interesting indeed." Bofur concurred, his voice a tad mysterious.

"I fail to see why." The Dwarf across from her muttered darkly under his breath as he swiftly got to his feet, Dwalin grunting his agreement as he did.

"Well, it is a long time since someone has managed not to lose to you, if I recall rightly. Well, without your Royal Loftiness resorting to cheating, that is of course." Bofur explained innocently with the air as if this was as self-evident as the sun rising. The King shot him a condemning glare, crossing his arms demonstratively over his chest in unmistakable hurt pride.

"Very well," He said, sounding as if he had made up his mind about something that gave him little pleasure to contemplate for his lips curled up in a snarl when he added, "If we cannot settle things with words, and reach but a temporary truce with a foolish game.." Voice growing in volume he paused briefly when Balin pleaded him to refrain from going on with that sentence, worry etched on his wrinkled face now he had evidently deciphered the expression on that of the other Dwarf. Even Bofur looked slightly guilty now it dawned on him he might very well have set his King a challenge he had had no intention of setting but he remained silent now it was obviously too late to undo his accidental goading.

Ignoring them both, Edúr slowly got to her feet and balled her fists in response to the King's fiery stare, trembling despite herself as he spat out, "Perhaps it is time we must let our axes decide things once and for all."

His words were followed by a deadly silence, but before she had the time to let their hostile meaning sink in he had removed a broad banded ring inlaid with onyx from his right index finger and carelessly threw it down on the table between them.

"Thorin, is this wise..?" Dwalin murmured as he leaned towards the King, clearly not fond of the idea of a duel, nor appearing remotely willing to allow her as close as a mile near him when she would be armed for battle. Niam seemed to have been thinking along the same lines for he moved closer, turning his back to the others and dropping his voice so only she could hear, "You do not have to do this.. _Please_.."

Although her cousin's words -along with his plea of this morning to avoid doing exactly that which she was on the verge of doing- rang clear in her ears, Edúr barely registered his imploring request, nor that of the other Dwarves around her now her anger was a stronger incentive.

"I thought so.." The King hissed scornfully at her silence which he obviously mistook for a refusal. She huffed in indignation and reached out to snatch the weighty ring off the table, saying as she returned the angry stare in his eyes boring into hers, "I accept."

Bofur hung his head in defeat though not as low as Niam now did, and both Balin and his Brother looked too thunderstruck to be able to say anything in protest. The King tilted his head, stating in a deceptively calm voice, "Very well. Then we shall duel at Sundown at the end of this week."

He dipped his chin as if in mockery of the absent bow she had no inclination to give him and swept out of the Library with Dwalin in his wake. Around her the others exchanged concerned looks and hurried whispers but she was blind and deaf to both, all she could stare at was the King's receding back and all she could feel the weight of the ivory piece in one hand and his ring which she stilled clutched tightly in her other.

~Thanks for Reading & Please Review! (^-^b)~

* _a'mug_ _rûrîk = Secret Siege [lit. siege secret] (name of the fictional Dwarven game Thorin and Edúr play in this chapter)_

 _Again a huge thank you to the wonderful Dwarrow Scholar!_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: ****Big thanks to those who reviewed/fav'ed/followed, I hope you'll all continue to enjoy reading my story! :)**

 _Joslyn: Welcome back, Joslyn! :) Love your enthusiasm for the upcoming duel, haha, sure hope I can deliver on that! Thanks for the review!_

 _DD: Thanks for your positive feedback! I'm super glad you're feeling the vibes between Thorin/Edúr, that's mostly what this story will be about after all! Hope you'll enjoy their duel! :)_

 _Angie: As always thank you for your review, I really value your loyal commitment to this story! And there's absolutely nothing wrong with your English, in fact I think it's really good! I'm loving the sparks flying between those two too, it'll be a challenge to have them have a normal conversation instead of a heated argument, haha ;)I was kind of happy how including Bofur in that scene in the library worked out, with his jovial attitude he is such a useful character that can push the others out of their comfort zones (with the best of intentions obviously) and set things in motion, he's a bit of a catalyst in that sense I guess. Also, I have a hunch I'll use that at a later stage in the story too… But I won't spoil it and give away anything here yet! And tensions will definitely be relieved in a sense but maybe it'll also be replaced with a different kind of tension at the same time ;)_

 _Obsessed reader: Thank you for leaving me a review! I'm glad you especially liked the last chapter, I had this idea of Thorin and Edúr 'facing off' through a chess-like board game but wasn't sure if it was going to work, so it's a relief to know that you enjoyed it! :) And yes, I can't wait for war to be over between those two and for peace talks to begin, haha. In that regard this chapter is sort of a turning point, their animosity will (slowly but surely) turn into something else from next chapter onwards ;)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter X**

THERE was no better way to really get to know a Dwarf than through a duel. _And yet_. Thorin could not fathom his own heart in having uttered that challenge. Nor could he understand himself for desiring vengeance when she had been guilty of no crime save for speaking with daggers instead of words. Still. That should not have been a reason for him to allow his emotions to get the better of him. To lose control. And he had. _What had come over him_..? For fear of losing his mind as well his self-control he soon gave up the attempt to make sense of it and instead buried himself in his many tasks. Nevertheless he grew more restless with each day that passed without the Dwarrow maiden retreating from their upcoming test of strength. Something he had been convinced of she would ultimately do. On the day before their duel was to take place, however, she still had not. As much as he did not like having been pushed to it, if she was not backing out of it, then neither was he.

If he was honest with himself, though, then the greater part of him had simply not expected she would accept or even if pride had prompted her to then not to show up on the day itself. It was why he had given her a week to reconsider, but clearly she was even more stubborn than he had thought. And so the day of the duel was upon him and he watched the sand grains in the hour glass seep through the narrow neck separating the two bulbous chambers with what he could swear was twice the speed. One moment Dwalin had been reporting about forming companies of Dwarven Warriors and the difficulties he faced in selecting and training those either from their own clan or integrating those that others brought with them. Next, Dís had kept him company for lunch although she had barely spoken to him and he had not been able to eat anything at all. He had anticipated she would be angry at him, furious even, but her pointed silence in his presence was worse. Apparently she had decided he needed to stand or fall on his own account, making him sincerely hope he would be able to make amends and heal the breach between them sooner rather than later for he valued her good opinion above that of many a Dwarf. He had felt increasingly guiltier the past week as he witnessed the gravity that pressed on his beloved Sister, reducing her to a dazed and numbed shell of herself. Often she had retreated for hours on end he knew it was to kneel in front of the crypt which held her Sons. The tomb in which slept eternal his heirs...

Then, when he had just changed his heavy sure coat to a lighter, leather tabard, Balin and Dwalin made yet another desperate attempt to change his mind. But the fact that the former reluctantly admitted that he had had no success with the maiden in this regard only strengthened his resolve. And so the three of them made their way to the Arena, the two brothers tense and silent as he himself tried one last time to dissect the insane idea that had entered his head a week ago in the Library. Maybe it was because he actually missed the physicality of sparring that had made him eager for battle. There was a sliver of doubt that slyly entered his heart now he had come dangerously close to inspecting the feelings that dwelled there. There was something else to it too. He had rarely admitted it to himself but sometimes he felt just as trapped in Erebor as she was, however blind she may choose to be to that fact. The healing of his wounds had been a slow and tiresome process, hindered by the fact that he could not - _would_ not- burden others with the manifold responsibilities he had as King of a Kingdom made out of crumbling walls that needed all his dedication to be rebuild. And grief for those that had fallen posed an even more challenging task..

Thorin balled his fists as that particularly heavy emotion threatened to overwhelm him, increasing his pace and blocking all other thoughts for he dared not even acknowledge that other restless sensation stirring in the pit of his stomach. For how could he admit to himself how much the golden treasures of the Mountain still haunted his dreams? How this fierce desire had apparently unbalanced him to such a degree he now found himself on his way to battle the Dwarrow maiden from the North, axe in hand to hack away at her defiance until not a shred of it was left..

* * *

Edúr frantically searched the racks of spears, swords and war-hammers, feeling restless to locate her own axes among the other, infinitely rustier weapons. She all but stalked through the rows of the Armory, mood darkening with each step as she tried to untangle herself from the clutches of cobwebs that over time had turned into dust curtains so thick they actually blocked the way forward on more than one occasion. Upon finally perceiving the familiar pair of twin-axes she reached out then froze with her hands awkwardly hovering in the air and fingers spread like a spider's legs, itching to grab the handles. There was a strange and sudden stirring in the pit of her stomach, both an agitated and hollow sensation. If she took back her trusted weapons now.. If she but stretched her hands a little further and grasped them with her fingers.. Then, there would be no going back..

Torn in her decision she stared at the claw shaped, almost scythe-like axe-heads the razor sharp ends of which curved in a sharp angle so that they pointed back towards each hilt respectively. They had been forged out of a deep gray iron except for the hearts which were plated with black steel so that the string of silver runes still glistened like Cirth Ithil. Scratched and battered as they may be now, Edúr could vividly remember the day when Niam's father, their Clan's most gifted blacksmith, had made them for her. They had shone so bright it had scared her them to pick them up. Her father's encouragement and guidance had been the only thing that had persuaded her to learn how to wield them until they had eventually become an extension of her body.

Not that she would ever call herself a Warrior, not least of all because she abhorred the savage pleasure she had sometimes felt at cleaving Goblin heads or hewing Orcs limb for limb, but she was thankful for his early lessons. After all, she was her parents' only child and in the absence of a son also the only heir to her father's title. Not that some factions within her Clan had not been opposed to the idea of a Dwarrowdam one day ruling their Keep, which was why it was even more important she had learned how to defend herself not just against the constant threat of enemies lurking nearby that made this a necessity already. She clenched her jaw, realizing how the King reminded her of those that had given her a hard time, who had always been testing her strength both in word and battle. She had always had to fight for her position. This duel would be nothing more. And nothing less..

Edúr closed her fingers around the handles with renewed determination, for a moment relishing the familiar weight of the identical axes in her hands. The brown and sturdy wood was covered by worn out leather that reached just below the lug, the grooves running over it pressed against her palms to provide a better grip. They had always served her well in beating back all those countless raids and skirmishes whenever she had joined her father and his Warriors on their purging of the immediate area around their hidden Keep. She had learned to understand but all too soon that taking a life meant that each Dwarf in her clan had an increased chance to hold on to theirs. It was the only way for their Clan to survive. Well. _Had been_. That same restless and yet horribly empty feeling settled in her stomach again and Edúr quickly made her way back passed the racks of dust-covered weapons before it would seize control of her.

True to his word, Balin had patiently waited for her to return. He stood just before the entrance to the Armory, thumbs impatiently twiddling as his hands rested on his forked beard. Bouncing on the balls of his feet he peered somewhat nervously into the winding rows of spears and swords, his unmistakable wary expression causing guilt to spread through her. Had there been a sliver of hope left in him she knew it was now mercilessly crushed as he spotted the axes she carried with her. Balin cast his eyes down, emitting a dejected _hum_ that made the hollow feeling inside of her grow even more. For a moment it was tempting to give in to the urge to hand over her axes to the Keeper of Arms who stood next to the old Dwarf, armor glinting angrily and brows knitted in an impressive scowl. Apart from feeling guilty she was also grateful that Balin had at long last given in to her request that he take her to the Armory, without his help she would never have found let alone acquire permission to enter it. Edúr was adamant to enter the duel with her own weapons and did not want to have to refuse should the King make her fight with any other he might chose on her behalf. She had not had control in evoking his spiteful challenge, but she would make sure to face him as she would any enemy or Dwarf doubting her strength. It was bad enough she doubted it herself at times, but by _Mahal_ she was not going to give the King the pleasure of seeing it reflected in her eyes.

The past week had been as frustrating as it had been both long and short, with time seemingly to have passed either excruciatingly slow or alarmingly fast. She felt she had spent most of it wandering through Erebor in an attempt to find the Armory by herself only to fail miserably with each equally fruitless excursion. The few Dwarves she had asked for directions had merely frowned, bowed politely and hurried off again mumbling unconvincing excuses. In addition, she suspected the Guards might have received orders either from their bald and intimidating Commander or perhaps even the King himself to watch and limit her movements for they had blocked many a corridor by crossing their halberds with a meaningful and resounding _clang_. Her cousin had been equally stoical in lending her assistance, or more precisely in refusing to give it. After a day or two he had fortunately given up on advising her to not go through with it -recognizing she was beyond the reach of his council- but had instead decided to simply watch her like a hawk so it had become increasingly difficult to escape him and venture out on her own. Balin on the other hand, had initially given her time and space to clear her head, only to attempt to persuade her to withdraw what seemed every hour of every day hence with such genuine concern etched on his wrinkled face it had nearly swayed her to give in to his entreaties. In the end his resolve to have her change her mind turned out to be as strong as hers to not back out of a challenge set to her by the King if he himself was not inclined to do so. And she did not expect him to. After all, this had been easily enough to deduce from Balin's obvious reluctance to lie to her as he had remained suspiciously silent instead when she had questioned him about it.

From the corner of her eyes she could see Balin exchange a nod of mutual respect with the Keeper of Arms but she herself dared not look back over her shoulder once she passed him, she did not need to in order to feel his stern glare boring a hole right between her shoulder blades. It was even harder than it had been upon first entering the Western guard room to ignore the utter despair that still hung in the very air as it had undoubtedly done that day the Firedrake had unleashed its destructive malice on it. The gateway was still partly sealed off by debris so the makeshift wooden door failed in blocking a cold draft that made clumps of dust tumble around and pulled at the torn banners on the cracked walls. Worst of all were the blackened remains of Dwarves burned alive as they had hoped to escape this way. Even though they had been lined in neat rows and covered respectfully in shrouds it was an eerie sight whenever the cold wind perused the white sheets, lifting it but an inch which was enough to catch a glimpse of skin resembling charcoal. Ashamed of her cowardice Edúr could not help but steer her gaze away from wandering over the centuries' old corpses of her kin, though this did not make her any less ware of their morbid presence. Behind her she could hear Balin exchange a few words in subdued tones with the grim looking Guards that stood watch in a circle around the dead as they awaited burial deep within Erebor. Next moment he fell into step next to her as together they headed deeper into the Mountain.

Thanks to a rare bit of luck, though it felt strange to consider it as such, Edúr had accidentally stumbled upon the Arena where the duel was to take place during her search for the Armory. As much as she wanted to turn around and make her way back to hers and Niam's private quarters she realized this was actually the first time she knew where her feet were taking her. How ironic this meant they would inevitably lead her to the one location in Erebor she had no desire and yet at the same time no choice but to go. Turning the last corner the cave-like entrance appeared, a familiar figure waiting before it.

Edúr greeted her cousin with a dip of her chin now her voice seemed suddenly stuck in her throat. She stared at the gaping and ominous looking cleft behind him that had split the rock and made her feel she was about to enter directly into the dark and hazardous heart of the Mountain the prospect of which was enough to gnaw at her courage. Balin said something to the both of them that she did not catch, though she felt his supporting hand resting briefly on her shoulder before he turned around and left. She knew he was going to get the King. And he was undoubtedly going to try one last time to stop him. Edúr repressed the nerves that spiked at that very thought, despising a weaker part of herself that hoped maybe the King would listen to his Councilors advice.

Grateful that Niam could not read her spineless thoughts Edúr determinedly walked on, entering the vast Arena beyond, not stopping until she had reached one of the fighting rings at the end that had a red banner hanging from its pole. It was half hidden around a curve of the granite walls which she suspected was why the King had chosen it seeing it would also ensure there would be little to no witnesses to the duel. That measure might in fact be the only thing she and the King agreed on, Edúr thought with a wry smile that quickly disappeared as her body froze the moment she had reach the ring. It was one thing to mentally prepare herself for a battle, well, a duel that was, and quite another to stand on the very brink of where it would take place.

Niam placed his hand on her shoulder much like Balin had done, saying earnestly, " _Izinnig, iraknana'_...*" She nodded in gratitude of his encouragement, not trusting her voice to sound firm before stepping over the thick rope coiled around the ring like a dormant snake that had eaten its own tail in its insatiable hunger. There was nothing for it now but to wait. Wait for the arrival of the King who for all his uncaring words of forgiveness and reluctant promises of trust clearly still saw in her the traitor she had never been. Edúr felt guilty for involving Niam in all of this, she had wanted to keep him out when she knew he would offer himself as her Second should she forfeit the duel, but he clearly would not let her. Not giving in to impulse to start pacing and disturb the carefully raked sand, she forced herself to stand completely still, adamant to do anything in her power to not give a certain Dwarf the satisfaction of an easy victory...

* * *

The moment they entered the Arena, a cavernous and unadorned hall, he instantly spotted the two Dwarves from the North. The Dwarrow was pacing restlessly back and forth while the Dwarrow maiden stood waiting for him at the center of the fighting ring furthest away. Her back was straightened, her shoulders squared and her chin lifted up as she stared into nothingness seemingly unaware of her surroundings though he knew with every fiber of his being she was alert and poised to strike with the pair of axes in her hands. Thorin quickly repressed an admiration for her courage that would only hinder him during the duel and pulled his long-hilted weapon from behind his belt. The axe was shaped almost like a large arrowhead though it was broader at the back and the heart of it had been taken out in the form of a diamond. Thorin motioned for Balin to stay back, knowing his old friend had been meaning to enter the ring with him to act as referee. He would not need one. Dwalin took up position just outside of the rim made out of thick intertwining rope and planted his own battle axe on the ground. At the sound of it the Dwarrow froze then neared the circle as well with an equally zealous determination to take over for either of them as tradition demanded. Thorin did not bother to share with them that it would not come to that. He would not let it. This ended here.

He took his place opposite the maiden and made ready to bow before commencing as protocol required of them when his resolution wavered for the first time since he had entered the Arena. Somehow she looked fragile and he thought he could discern one or two ghosts of cuts on her face that had not been entirely healed; he had not realized she would still be weakened from her recent ordeals. Her amber hair was pulled back in a single braid so it would not encumber her during the fight and was draped over her right shoulder. She was wearing that mossy green tunic which would offer but little protection against his axe, regardless of the fact that Dwarven duels were not to the death, were not even meant to harm but rather to disarm one's opponents. _Had he a made a mistake in challenging her_..?

Interpreting his immobility as a sign he was not even going to bow to her the maiden scowled and took on a defensive stance, one of the two axes she held in her hands lifted at eye level, the other to the side and pointing towards the ground. Thorin remained rooted to the spot, feeling he could not move at the moment even if he had wanted to. He stared in those clear, sky blue eyes as Gandalf's words to him that faithful day when he had intended to throw Bilbo over the ramparts and to his death now echoed through his head, bouncing mercilessly against the inside of his skull and growing louder each time: ' _You're not making a very splendid figure as King under the Mountain, are you, Thorin, son of Thrain_?'

There was a flurry of movement and he caught a glimpse of the orange light of the torches on the wall reflecting off an axe as she lunged forward. He had but a split second to react, robbing him of the opportunity to end the duel he should never have allowed to take place. He increased his firm grip on his own weapon and parried the blows she was trying to deal him with the razor sharp edge of it. It did not take him long to confirm he was indeed stronger, more so because of his advantage in experience than the muscles in his arms. Nevertheless, the strength and agility she did possess took him by surprise and it took him a long while to become intimately familiar with her style so he could predict when and where she would strike at him. The battle taking up all of his concentration he lost track of time and forgot the presence of the other Dwarves. It was why he relished a good fight for it could make him forget who he was and the duel was all that existed in the realm of axe clashing against axe. He reveled in the sensation that he could sense every tendril in his body exert force, how his limbs obeyed his every command whether he leaned back on the ball of his feet to dodge another fell swipe of the maiden's axes or put in his weight to give his own weapon even more power as he thrusted it forward.

Although he had not expected for the maiden to wield her weapons with such speed and precision, her aggression towards him momentarily restored some of his waning resolve and he felt an urge to teach her a lesson, knowing that he could and would win this duel. He regretted it had come to this but he recognized it as a chance to make her respect him as her King. Up until now neither of them had landed a single hit with the flat sides of their axes which would decide the duel in favor of whoever managed to do that first. Thorin held his breath and readied himself for finding an opening in her defense but with each minute that passed his hunger for revenge dwindle again and he could not help as it slowly but surely was replaced by a very different feeling. Her endurance was admirable. More than that even. And then there was the fact that she was not willing to give up when he knew she was well-aware of his superior skills. Despite seemingly fighting a losing battle she simply refused to stop trying to beat him, to find new ways to break through his defense and ward off his attacks. Defeating her now would be an unjust punishment and poor reward for a quality he valued and respected in his own warriors.

He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, knowing that when he would open them again he would find her open to his thrust. When he did he pretended to want to take advantage of it but held back just enough to alter the trajectory of his weapon aimed at her shoulder. For a moment he thought he detected a flicker of understanding at what he was trying to do in her brightened eyes. Next he knew she had seen through it. She grappled his downward going axe with one of her own and lifted it up. With her body blocking the movement to the spectators she deftly corrected the course towards her neck and swung the axe in her other hand towards his. And then they stood opposite each other, panting and sweat running down their temples, both with the cold metal of each other's weapons against their heated skin. Thorin could feel warm blood trickling down his own neck and saw a few drops of it land on her tunic as well. _Stalemate_...

He could not tell how long they stood there as if statues carved to remember a battle fought long ago. He was so close to her that he could see her eyelashes flutter as she blinked a couple of times, lips opening and closing hesitantly before she said in a hushed whisper, " _Khamanmi astû_. *"

Flustered she hurriedly lowered her weapon, prompting him to hasten to retreat his own axe. She inclined her head towards him for the briefest of moments -not waiting for him to return it- and turned around. Guided by instinct he reached out and held her back by her arm, "You fought with honor. Forgive me for thinking you possessed none. _Lutunmi e_. *"

He thought he could feel her tremble at his words, then he released her from his grip and she practically fled from the fighting ring, leaving him standing with a mind so filled with a storm of thoughts he did not think it possible he would be able to calm all of them ever again.

* * *

Blood was trickling down her throat, pooling in the dent between her collarbones, sticky and warm on her skin. Her axes hung loosely in her weakened grip, bumping against the sides of her knees as she crossed their chamber. She was too dazed to have been aware of how she had found her way back though she did not doubt Niam had probably guided her course. Taking a few more faltering steps inside Edúr desperately tried to wrap her head around what had happened in the Arena.

Should she feel grateful for the fact that he had tried to let her win? Or was it an insult when he had perhaps acted that way because he did not think that she could beat him, not fairly at least? She could not deny that he had been stronger -as she had known he would be- and yet sheer stubborn pride had made it impossible to give up. That did not mean she had expected the King to actually do the honorable thing and set himself up for losing, even attempting to make it seem she had taken advantage of his feigned mistake and he had had no hand in it. In the end she had only had a split second to decide on the trajectory of her own weapons, finally seizing the opportunity the King's chivalry had provided her with to have their duel end in yet another draw. Neither had won. Neither had lost. Would this be the perpetual pattern of the uncomfortable dance they were seemingly both trapped in?

Truth was, she did not know what to feel. There were so many conflicting emotions raging inside of her and her blood still rushed through her ears because of the adrenaline of the fight. And with it came a disproportionate exhaustion that now washed over her. It must have been because of the tension surrounding the duel now suddenly lifted. Physically it had taken a lot out of her too. She wanted to do nothing more than to close her eyes but when she briefly did the vivid images of the King's black hair clinging to his face and the flexing of the muscles in his partly bared arms as he had parried her blows made her open them again with a jolt.

Edúr cringed at the harsh sound of her axes as their handles slipped out of her hands and they clattered on the floor. Her cousin was at her side instantly, looking sideways at her his worried expression made her flinch even more.

"Are you all right?" Niam asked, voice thick with concern. He took a rough piece of cloth out of a pocket and cautiously started to dab at the shallow cut at the side of her neck.

"Yes.." She assured him somewhat impatiently, blocking his attempt to treat her negligible battle wound with a wave of her hand and adding when he did not seem convinced by her answer, "I am tired. That is all."

She crouched down to pick up her axes, ashamed for her own lapse of attention that had made her release them. It would not do to think of just how close she had stood to the King. Nor would it serve any purpose for her thoughts to linger on his gray eyes that had been brightened and alert, causing her to have felt exposed almost as he had watched her closely to unravel her fighting style.

There was a sudden rapping on the window shutters, like a woodpecker's beak drilling into dead wood. Her mind far away the sound had startled her, nearly causing her weapons to escape her grasp again. Cursing inwardly for her skittish behavior Edúr placed her axes upright to rest against the low table then sunk down on the stone sofa that was literally buried under cushions of all possible sizes and with frilly tassels a discolored beige. Meanwhile, Niam had let Morkai in and the Raven folded his wings and hopped in her direction, soon flapping once to gain height again and settle down on both her knees now she had pulled those close to her, each claw resting on one of them. He gave her one of his piercing looks, head tilted to the side and beady eyes shining a dull black. Satisfied that his mistress was safe and had endured her recent trial he let out a content gurgle that sounded as if it must tickle his throat and started to clean his feathers.

Her cousin joined them but not before draping a blanket over her shoulders. She threw him a grateful look as he sat back on the sofa, nearly disappearing among the cushions. Neither of them spoke now they were equally occupied with their own thoughts. Not long after, his slowed breathing told her he had fallen asleep. Edúr continued to watch Morkai cleaning the feathers on his breast, the ones on his neck puffed up as his beak delicately furrowed in between the barbs with precise strokes until her eyelids grew too heavy and she was carried off to the blissfully oblivion of a deep sleep.

* * *

~Thanks for Reading & Please Review! (^-^b)~

* * *

* _"_ _Izinnig, iraknana'_..." _= "Continue to show courage, cousin…"_

* _"_ _Khamanmi astû." = "Thank you."_

* _"_ _Lutunmi e_." = _"Forgive me."_ _[lit. to absolve/forgive]_

 _Again a huge thank you to the wonderful Dwarrow Scholar! I'm in serious danger of getting hooked on slipping in a bit of Khuzdul now and then thanks to that amazing dictionary! ;P_


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows, appreciate the support! :)**

 _Obsessed reader: Glad you liked the way the duel went and especially how it ended in a draw, I felt it just wouldn't be right if one of them beat the other, this way it's been a bit of an eye-opener for the both of them and it allowed them to glimpse a different side to each other that they haven't seen yet. And you're absolutely right, they're both so stubborn and proud, I guess it's those traits that initially prevented them from getting along but it'll also be the foundation for mutual respect and that other emotion, you know the one, four letters, starts with an l… ;) Thanks for the review!_

 _Angie: Yes, exactly, Balin is the perfect gentleman, I love that Dwarf, he's definitely one of my favorites! Both Thorin and Edúr are so stubborn, there was no way either of them was going to be the first to retreat from the duel, haha, but at least now they've vented some frustrations and can hopefully move on to fostering very different feelings towards each other ;) Thanks for another sweet review!_

 _Joslyn: Giggedy, giggedy! That about sums that chapter up haha ;)_

 _h: I definitely will keep writing! Thanks for the encouragement! :)_

 _CannonRebel: Thanks for your review! :) I'm glad you like my OC, I didn't want her to come off too strong and yet she has to be spirited enough to prove a challenge to Thorin. Overall, I'd say he has met his match in her, and vice versa come to think of it, hehe ;p_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema.

 **Chapter XI**

THE cramped, windowless room glittered and shimmered forth like the nest of a particularly greedy magpie. There were large, glass jars filled to the brim with gleaming rubies of every color imaginable and an assortment of scales with piles of diamonds that sparkled like stars on a lake. The treasury was a hive of activity and the undisputed domain of scurrying Dwarves measuring and weighing red and brown-veined carnelian beads, beryl gems seemingly filled with sunlight and polished grass-green emeralds. Seated around a large narrow table, others held a burin in hand to diligently carve figures out of bloodstones and jade or etched runes on diopside parcels the smoothed surface of which glinted a dull black or gray. Engrossed in their work none of them had noticed her entering their world of glistening sapphires and ammonite, the former a deep, intense blue and the latter splattered with watery stains of bright yellow, green and purple that mingled the way it did on a butterfly's wing.

Careful not to trip, Edúr stepped around the dozen crates of precious stones the luster of which had yet to be unveiled and remained hidden under a thick outer layer of rugged rock. She had been trying to get the attention of the one Dwarf that fit the Lady Dís' description but as of yet with little success. In order not to lose sight of him she kept her eyes fixed on his brownish-red mane as he made his way further into the treasury and followed at a steady pace. He retook his place behind a desk at the far back, his matted beard -the course of which was directed and sculpted with iron rings- draping over its littered surface. Nearing she watched as he held up a rock sample from one of the crates that closely resembled a lump of coal. He placed it on a worn and scratched marble slate in front of him, wiped it clean off grit then raised the chisel he held in his hand. With one expertly executed stroke he split the rock to the core and she gasped at the brilliant radiance of light that suddenly burst out from the heart of the precious stone now its dark, gravelly skin was cleaved.

Entranced by the twinkling beauty of it that was marvelous to behold she halted in front of the desk and did not become aware of the Dwarf's piercing stare until he cleared his throat. Her eyes snapped back up and she blinked bashfully as if she had been caught doing something unseemly.

"Yes...?" The Dwarf raised an eyebrow at her, clearly suspicious of her motives towards the rare jewel he now protectively placed his hands over.

"You are Master Gloín, are you not?" She inquired, trying to feel less like the thief she was most definitely not.

"Yes..." Gloín affirmed in very much the same tone of distrust.

"I have come to collect a jewelry box belonging to the Lady Dís."

"Have you now.." He narrowed his eyes, tapping his fingers on the desk.

"Erm.. Yes.. I-.. I have." She repeated, uncertain why her voice had sounded quite so defensive.

"Hmmm..." The Dwarf mumbled, clearly doubting the truth of her words, "And who might you be exactly, lass, if you don't mind me asking-" He stopped himself short and leaned forward, his beard almost entirely covering the new born precious stone as he scrupulously took in her face. Somehow feeling exposed by his prying gaze Edúr half wished she had not taken it upon her to pick up what no doubt must be a valuable heirloom having belonged to the Royal Family for generations. After another moment of discomfort Gloín leaned back again, inhaling sharply as he did.

"Wait a minute! You're that lass from the North!" He exclaimed, pointing his stubby finger in her direction as if he had just identified a rare gem of which he remained undecided whether it was valuable or not, "Why, I'm surprised you're still here after.. Well, after..." His low-pitched voice trailed off as he found himself unable to aptly describe her behavior at the feast a week past at which he had also been present.

"Clearly I am." Edúr assured him somewhat crossly now he had poked awake that particularly aggravating memory, adding tersely, "Now if you would not mind bringing me that jewelry box?"

"And why should I do that?" The Dwarf grumbled, prompted by his natural inclination to be distrustful of strangers. As convenient as that must be in his line of work, Edúr had little patience for it at the moment.

"Because, Master Gloín, she herself has taken ill and I offered to collect it on her behalf." She explained a little exasperated at being treated like she had either been planning a robbery or was thinking of running away with the bounty meant for Lady Dís. The Dwarf in front of her narrowed his eyes even more, reducing them to mere slits and slightly pouted his lips as he considered the validity of her request.

"Truly, I only wished to help and ease her burden in whichever small way I can." Edúr added truthfully, hoping at the same time to kindle sympathy in the Dwarf which might persuade him. Just when she feared he was leaning towards not believing her and she would have to climb all those levels to disappoint the ailing Dwarrowdam, Gloín's eyes suddenly strayed to a point behind her. Next moment he hastily got to his feet and dipped his head in a somewhat groveling manner. Puzzled as to what to make of his behavior Edúr frowned then threw an investigative glance over her shoulder. Not too far behind her stood two Dwarves, their heads turned in the same direction as hers. Following their line of vision she thought she could just discern the hem of an indigo coat and the far-off, faint dull shimmering of a crown before the figure was swallowed up by the surrounding Dwarves busying themselves with their work. Behind her she could hear Gloín stammer in apparent confusion, "But.. Where.. Where did he go?"

At his words the two Dwarves turned as one to face her and the reddish-haired Dwarf. One was short and stout, his gray beard short and groomed to perfection whereas his hair was braided in rather curly strands that ran like a rim from his forehead to his temples and rested on his ears before it came together in an intricate knot at the back. The other was relatively skinny and far younger, with only a hint of a moustache on his face. Most of his beard seemed lost in two narrow braids that were identical to the way his dark blond hair was divided into four plaits –two in front, two behind his ears- and nearly all of his forehead disappeared underneath a thick fringe.

"Dori. Ori. What did you do? It is not good for business to have the King leave here without bestowing an investment on us, very bad indeed." Gloín called over to the two Dwarves, sounding unmistakably accusing.

"Oh, I am sure he will be back." Was all Dori said as he pulled the Dwarf next to him on the sleeve to stir him into motion. Edúr could not help but feel they looked slightly guilty despite Dori waving away Gloín's fretting.

"Well, this is a pity. Why, he could have taken this to his Sister, I mended it this morning." Gloín muttered under his breath as the two Dwarves joined them, opening a drawer with a lot of creaking and revealing the dainty jewelry box she had been after.

"And how can we help you, my dear?" Dori inquired of her, smiling politely but nevertheless making her feel as if she was listening in on a conversation not meant for her ears or at the very least a hindrance to the one he wanted to have with Gloín.

"Um, actually, I came to collect this on behalf of Lady Dís now she is feeling rather too weak to be up to the task." She explained her coming a second time, eyes fixed on the silver box inlaid with amber stones. She was not of a mind to let it out of her sight now she was so close to fulfilling her errand. Gloín huffed a skeptical _hmpf_ but Dori ignored him and said in a lofty accent, "How kind of you, Lady Edúr. In that case, we shan't delay you another minute."

He reached out for the box, only to realize Gloín pinned it to the desk with his hand, slowly scraping it towards himself and away from her, remarking apprehensively, "Are we sure about this, Dori?"

"Of course we are." The other dwarf replied somewhat annoyed, finally getting enough of a hold on the box so he could pry it from underneath Gloín's fingernails.

"Why don't we let Ori take it to the Lady Dís?" He proposed as a last resort now Dori had been on the verge of handing her the box. The gray-haired Dwarf sighed in resignation, "Very well. Ori, you are to accompany this lovely Lady here to the Royal Chambers."

Not looking entirely satisfied for he probably had not meant for Edúr and the young Dwarf to go together, Gloín eventually shrugged his approval of the arrangement, addressing her with a considerable more civil tone than he had used before now, "It's not that I don't trust you, my Lady, but one cannot be too careful.. These are dark days.. Aye, dark days indeed.." She felt slightly insulted now he observed her with brows contracting ominously before telling the young Dwarf in an undertone that she nevertheless picked up, "Now you hold on to that box, and keep an eye on the lass, you understand."

Ori nodded nervously and looked almost panic-stricken now Dori unceremoniously entrusted the box to the younger Dwarf with enough force to take the air out of his lungs and he slightly doubled over. Quickly recovering at Dori's scowl he clutched the box tightly to his chest and eyed her somewhat fearfully, prompting the older Dwarf to remark irritably, "Now, don't fidget lad, she's a maiden not a Dwarf-eating troll." Edúr again felt more than a little displeased at the comparison but Dori did not notice her glare and he went on in a complaining tone, "And please don't dawdle on the way back, Ori, I shan't waste an entire day looking for you again. I do think you're the only dwarf to still lose your way in the whole of Erebor.."

With another one of his tired sighs he pushed the young Dwarf on his way much like a mother duck would chase off a duckling that had clung to her for too long. Gloín had already turned his attention to dismantling more of the valuable contents of the precious stone but Dori had the decency to give her a most courteous bow when she made to follow Ori, though she was not entirely sure how to interpret the gesture. Settling for a curt nod in the direction of both Dwarves she turned around and quickly fell into step next to the timid young Dwarf that had been awaiting her with cheeks as red as tomatoes.

Not knowing how to assure Ori he need not be scared of her she gave him a weak smile she hoped would pass for friendly then walked on beside him in silence. Truth was she was hardly in the mood to befriend the young Dwarf, not because of anything he had done but simply being the unhappy result of the sheer weight of a jumble of thoughts packed together in her mind. Glad that Ori did not seem to mind she was not trying to strike up a conversation, his shy nature alone would have probably prevented him from participating in it anyway, she allowed herself to be taken along on the current of her very mixed feelings. The fact that she had nearly run into the King still made blood rush through her body. A powerful jolt had gone through her upon merely catching a glimpse of him and she was relieved she had been spared a confrontation. Ever since their duel, now nearly two weeks ago, she had been determined to avoid him and he her it would seem. Something stirred in the pit of her stomach and she inadvertently frowned at herself for having bristled at that realization. She could not deny that the fight, and his attempt to let her win it in the end, had changed something in her. It was as if it had taken the sting out of her wounds and quenched at least a part of the anger and resentment she felt towards him. She refused to belief, however, that any seeds of mutual respect had been sown because of it. Her dislike of him and the obvious reciprocation of that by the King in his turn was proof enough of that. It was undoubtedly why he also had made sure all these days to avoid her company.

Niam had told her, voice low and hushed almost as if the very mention of the King would set her off again, that he had not attended any of the dinners he himself had taken with the Company. Edúr had simply shrugged in indifference, internally feeling annoyed that he would forego the pleasure of dining with his most trusted friends because he seemingly loathed to risk being in the same room with her. Not that she shared this frustration with her cousin. Nor did either of them mention the duel that had taken place. In fact, no one had talked of it since. It was almost as if those that knew about it or had witnessed it had silently agreed not to. For what purpose would it serve to make public the King's less than commendable behavior in challenging her to that fight? And it would be equally condemning if word leaked out of her taking up arms against the ruler of the most powerful Dwarven Kingdom. No doubt both their actions would kindle mistrust or anger even instead of inspiring loyalty and understanding. Well, at least not in the Dwarves living in Erebor whose number steadily grew with caravans arriving almost daily. And so she really did not need any of those that knew about the duel to put into words it was best kept a secret. Which, after some initial uneasiness, suited her just fine. She had no desire to talk of it to anyone, even Niam, ever again. Nor think of it quite as much as she still did..

Edúr fumbled with her armguards as they continued on their way, needlessly readjusting the straps binding it around her wrists and keeping a watchful eye around in case she spotted a certain Dwarf she had been glad enough to escape but moments ago. Her nerves increased every stair they climbed and positively spiked once they reached the arched hallway that offered access to the Royal Chambers. Ori slowed his pace, clearly intimidated at the prospect of having to hand over the jewelry box he still held on to for dear life to the Lady Dís. They stopped in front of tall marble door with gilded rings for handles and which was flanked by pillars upheld by equally golden statues of noble looking Dwarves. From the corner of her eyes she could see the young Dwarf was almost trembling with trepidation. Taking pity on him even though she herself felt equally -if not more- nervous for being in this part of Erebor, she turned to him and stretched out her hands.

"Thanking you for coming with me, Master Ori. I doubt I would have found it on my own for I fear you are not the only Dwarf to get lost in the Mountain, no matter what the opinions of other Dwarves on that score might be."

Understanding dawning on his child-like face he quickly handed her the box as if it had been on fire and was burning his hands. He smiled his thanks and scurried off as fast as his feet could carry him. Edúr stared after him, tempted to follow him and let him be the one to deliver it after all but she checked the irrational impulse and turned back to face the imposing door. Her knocks were echoed from within as her heart throbbed almost in unison with the dull, deep sounds of the heavy gilded ring on cold marble. Taking a step back Edúr held her breath and clutched the jewelry box as tightly as Ori had done, briefly closing her eyes and praying to _Mahal,_ _he_ would not be there.

* * *

His cousin's flaming hair and beard acquired an even fierier hue in the huge furnace that were Erebor's forges. They walked shoulder to shoulder, seemingly strolling through the intensely warm hall without any specific purpose. In truth, Dain had been informing him of the situation in the valley between Erebor and Dale, as well as the plains stretching out behind it all the way to the shores of the Long Lake. He had entrusted him and the army of Dwarven Warriors from the Iron Hills which he commanded with patrolling those areas, make sure they were safe and remained that way. It was vital for the trade just starting to blossom between Dwarves, Men and Elves, that goods and produce could travel unhindered and without facing the danger of roving bandits or stray Warg packs. So far they had only come across some small bands of Orcs and a handful of Trolls that had posed little to no threat and had thus been quickly killed. The land surrounding the Lonely Mountain appeared mostly quiet and abandoned by their enemy. This was true for the wastelands to the North. Thorin did not doubt there would be skirmishes and raids, but he was also confident that together with his own growing army he and his cousin would be able to blunt and dispel that threat, sooner rather than later. For now he refused to believe Gundabad still held enough enemies to deal any blow of consequence.

There was another reason why Thorin wanted his cousin guarding their borders. From all over Middle Earth, Dwarves -craftsmen, miners, merchants and nobility alike- were returning to the Mountain and he wanted to provide them with escorts on that hazardous journey. His people had been robbed of their homeland, had been forced to forever wander without belonging anywhere and had scattered as a result too. He fully intended to offer them all the protection he could give now they were finally able to come back. To come _home_.. It was what they had deserved after so much hardship and he was ultimately the one that should safeguard the future peace and prosperity of every Dwarf he welcomed back within the walls of Erebor. The task was as daunting as it was an honor that filled him with pride to be Durin's heir.

Next to him Dain suddenly let out a bark of laughter which rather crudely pulled him from his reverie. A moment later his loud and booming voice rang out as he made a witty remark Thorin could not quite catch to the corpulent Dwarf dangling from one of the massive bellows. Bombur used all of his weight, which in his case was considerable, to constantly supply a stream of air and feed the fires that way. The strong current produced wheezing sounds as it passed through the nozzle of the old and worn device, causing flames to flare up and lick at the large tubs above it in which metals were heated to their malleable liquid form. Still roaring with laughter, Dain followed him to one of the smitheries lined against the wall behind it. They really should have stayed in the Council Chamber but the noise of the blazing fires, the wheezing of the bellows and effervescing of hot liquid ensured they could have a private conversation. Most importantly, it was easier talking to Dain if they were moving for the Dwarf could not sit still.

Though related, in a lot of ways he and his cousin were each other's opposite. Where Dain was hard pressed to keep any emotion contained within him –continually spilling out from him one way or another- he himself often sculpted his face in a neutral expression so that the feelings and thoughts inside remained his and his alone. He valued this ability, knew it was essential even, but there were times he envied Dain for not wearing a mask, whether the situation required it or not. Though he did not wear it always. He did not care for it to smother him. To turn him into one of those stone statues of his forbears. Sometimes, however, he would not be able to take the mask off even if he wanted to. It was the invisible division between being himself and being the King that only he and those that cared for him knew about. And whenever he was in their company, of those he trusted and of his friends and family, it would eventually break apart, reveal his true face between the cracks. And somehow his anger, sadness as well as moments of intense happiness found a way to slip past it too, regardless of the control he thought he exerted over them.

"Nori!" Thorin pushed his reflections aside and called out to the Dwarf bending over a fire that was at the heart of the smithery. He turned around, holding a tong with both hands as he had just taken an iron nail the size of a dagger from amidst the flames. It was glowing an angry red and radiated heat.

"Majesty. Lord Dain." Nori returned his greeting, dipping his chin to each in turn and puffing out air in an attempt to cool off. Sweat was trickling down his face and also moistening his trihawk from which strands poked out. Before he could inquire after his experienced blacksmith's progress he noticed the other Dwarf. To his surprise it was the Dwarrow from the North. He had his sleeves rolled up and held a hammer in one hand, letting it fall with powerful strokes on the nail as Nori placed it on the anvil. The metallic drumming sound of it always had been pleasing to his ears. Often he had thought it was the very heartbeat of the mountain. Not the deftly clinking of a pickaxe digging for precious stones in the deep mines, nor the steady tapping of a chisel laying bare a gold vein running through rock, but the sound of a hammer on the anvil shaping the tools vital for all of the Dwarven Guilds, from the Warriors to the Carvers.

"Niam, Son of Efraín, was it not?" He asked the Dwarrow after he had quenched the nail in a tub filled with cold water, causing steam to escape with a sharp hiss. Half turned with his back towards them as he had been it was only now that he became aware of their presence. Before answering him however, the Dwarf strangely enough stiffened and flicked a somewhat worried look over his shoulder. Evidently not seeing what he had expected to see he hastily turned back to face them again, saying with a suddenly solemn bow, "Yes, your Majesty."

"You have done this work before?" Thorin inquired, though he realized he might not have needed to, judging by the firm and steady grip in which he held the hammer the Dwarrow had undoubtedly been trained.

"I have. My father told me how. Well, for the short time that he could. After his passing I taught myself as best as I could."

"I am sure your dedication to his trade would have made him proud." He told the Dwarrow honestly, recognizing his zeal and its usefulness in rebuilding Erebor, "We are in dire need of strong, able lads such as yourself to help in the forges and smitheries. I would be grateful if you considered an apprenticeship with Nori here, I have no doubt you would equal his skill with a hammer and anvil, given time."

Nori inclined his head in gratitude for the appreciation of his work, wiping his brows on his sleeve afterwards and looking proudly at Niam whose eyes had lit up at the offer, "I thank you, your Majesty. I would be honored if Master Nori would accept me as such."

"I would indeed. With your talent I would be a fool not to." The Blacksmith assured him, making it impossible for the Dwarrow to contain a broad smile at this. Daín barked a hearty laugh though it could not drown out the sound of muffled footsteps Thorin thought he could hear coming from close by. Next moment it seemed that Niam's cheeks gained color and even Nori cleared his throat needlessly and shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he caught a flash of amber hair and the sleeve of a soft lavender dress from the corner of his eyes. He would have appeased the suspicions instantly arising within him in blaming the noises of the forges and glow of the fires to have distorted his perception but Dain stirred next to him, mumbling in surprise, "Wasn't that-"

"There is no one here but us, my Lord." Niam hurriedly interjected, clearly feeling uncomfortable with his obvious lie no matter how respectful the tone in which he had spoken.

Thorin had to exert considerable willpower to pretend not to notice now Dain narrowed his eyes then gave him a measuring glance over before shifting his gaze back to Niam and answering wisely, "Ah. Yes. I see."

A wave of annoyance surged through him now, more at his own reaction than for those of the others. As unreasonable as it was, the thought that she was fleeing from him irked him beyond measure. She did not know him and so she had not yet earned that right. And he cared little that this was perhaps unfair of him, seeing he had turned around almost the moment he had recognized her in the Treasury yesterday. He had only stayed long enough to overhear her reason for coming and it had seemed to be the same as his own. Although it was kind of her to offer to help his Sister a part of him felt strangely thwarted by her when he had been of a similar mind. Still, Dís had forgiven him it seemed for the duel, he only hoped he had forgiven himself. He did not even dare hope the Dwarrow maiden- No. Now that he had had the dubious privilege to measure her fighting skills with his own he must call her by her name. That Lady Edúr ever would.

If they continued to stubbornly stay out of each other's way chances were she would not, which for some reason he did not want to understand stung him. He had no inclination to peer around corners and take detours for the sole purpose of avoiding a single Dwarf that should not even have been here in the first place. He had done enough in allowing her to stay. She could not expect more of him. She obviously did not. _Then why should he_? It troubled him that even though they had not seen each other let alone talk for two weeks she occupied his mind so much. That tendency could serve no purpose. She was a stranger to him. And he to her. If she wished to keep her distance, then so be it. After all, it was not something that should rattle him, the King, when there were many other things that could rightfully claim his time. That really _should_ dominate his thoughts instead.

Without a word Thorin led Daín out of the smithery and into the sweltering heat of the forges, grinding his teeth as he went as if in doing so he could crush that desire to be so close to her again as he had been during their duel before it could come even closer to budding as it already seemed to be.

* * *

~Thanks for Reading & Please Review, I'd love to know what you guys think! (^-^b)~

 **AN:** Sorry that it's a bit of a filler chapter, I felt it was necessary to make for a believable transition between being 'enemies' and becoming 'allies' (well, a bit more than allies with a bit of luck haha ;p). Also I wanted to have some of the Company make their appearance in this story and this time it was Glóin, Ori, Dori, Nori and Bombur's turn! Anyways, I promise I'll make up for the lack of interaction between those two stubborn Dwarves in the upcoming chapters! Until then, stay tuned~


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows!**

 _Angie: Thank you for your review! Your support keeps me going! :-) I enjoy bringing in the other canon characters into the story even though this means less room for Thorin/Edúr interaction sometimes, but the other characters are each so very interesting that I feel it's impossible to leave them out, I'm glad you didn't mind and like to read about those too! Yes, they are so proud that even though they feel intrigued by one another they'd rather avoid each other than admit that! But, good news, they won't be hiding from each other in this manner for very long! ;)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XII**

BENT on getting as far away as possible from the forges, put as much distance as she could between her and the King, she had not paid sufficient heed to where her feet were carrying her. Something she soon came to regret when Edúr found herself utterly lost in the vast Mountain Hall. Standing forlorn at the grand entrance to the deserted Gallery of Kings she felt small and insignificant. Even more so, perhaps, she was angry at herself for giving in to the instinct to hide and eventually rush out of the smithery first chance she got once the King and his Cousin the Lord Daín had entered. It was small consolation now that he had not seen her. At least, she sincerely hoped he had not. But even if he had, then it would not have been more rude than what he had done in the Treasury the day before. It seemed they were even. Once again. She was not sure why that tired her. Or why it was that the more she avoided him, the more she was aware of all the places she could run into him.

Something that made her even less inclined to look forward to face the King again –for her luck in that regard was bound to run out soon- was that she had had to admit defeat when it came to her garments. Having nothing but the tunic, breeches and cloak to call her own she had given in to the servants' persistence and taken to wearing the dresses stored in the wardrobe in her room. Fearing that moment would come she had stubbornly hold on to her cloak seeing it was useful to cover the garments she was pretty sure had been made for a Dwarrowdam of considerably curvier and more voluminous posture. And she probably had had a different hair and eye color too for the shades of lavender, mustard yellow and salmon pink did not exactly compliment her own.

It was strange to think that the light purple, frilly dress she had on now had perhaps been worn to a banquet or some such festive ceremony. For a brief moment she tugged at her sleeves, imagining a Dwarrowdam of noble birth to step over the threshold she now stood on the brink of and stride through the Gallery of Kings before Smaug the Terrible had taken up abode in it. It must have shone with the luster of precious stones inlaid in the hilts of axes and rims of shield, glowed with the lit torches and fireplaces and sparkled with the jewels and gems part of necklaces, bracelets and diadems. It must have been filled with music and lively chatter, with talk of trade and prosperity. And through the large, narrow shafts a breeze must have made the banners flutter and ripple between the tall pillars as both sun and moonlight trickled inside, illuminating the white veins of the dark green marble. These very walls had witnessed it as they had witnessed the calamity that had followed.

There was a sudden heavy footfall that mingled with her musings and caused the envisioned past to recede like mist rolling back over a mountain's ridge. The splendor of old faded and with it the banners were robbed of their glory and became dull of color and moth eaten once again. There was no laughter nor talk and no flute nor drum could be heard. In the harsh light of a cold Winter's day the majestic pillars revealed cracks that ran in crooked lines all the way to the arched ceilings and there were chips missing from the floor too. There was no sound but the echoes of footsteps gradually nearing. Before Edúr could move a solitary figure clad in a heavy robe the color of sapphires and lined with black fur appeared. The black and gold crown set on his long, dark hair left little doubt as to who it was that had entered the hauntingly beautiful yet melancholy domain she could now no longer claim as her own.

Instinct told her to leave but she refrained from giving in to it a moment longer as the King reached the center of the cross-shaped Gallery, and slowly turned to face the Throne at the far end. He did not stir or proceed, only seemed to gaze at the seat of his power enshrouded in its usual shadows in either awe or wariness, she could not tell which. Now the steady thumping sounds of his footsteps had died out the oppressive silence was almost a tangible weight on her shoulders. It was nothing, however, to the sensation taking over her heart though she was sure it should have no place there. Looking upon the unmoving yet unmistakably regal silhouette of the King a sense of intense pity overwhelmed her. The massive proportions of the ancient halls did not only humble just herself it seemed. Although Edúr had for a moment felt she had watched the former greatness of the Gallery come to live at her imagination's perusal, she could not now bear the mere thought of the utter loneliness that inheriting a Kingdom crumbled to a ruin must be. It was impossible to understand how alone one must feel to live up to the deeds of ancestors surpassing legend and rebuild their ancient home of Erebor..

Mentally forcing herself to move she had meant to take a careful step back but the sound of her metal-soled boots on the stone floor instantly traveled through the Gallery nonetheless. For a moment she held her breath and fervently hoped it had not reached his ears but those were dashed when, inevitably alerted to her presence, the King whipped around and stared straight at her. Even from this distance she could see his hand had reached for his sword. Hand still resting on the pommel he lifted his chin, crown glinting in the bleak column of sunlight shining upon him. She thanked _Mahal_ for the sheer size of the Gallery, if only so the piercing scowl he no doubt gave her lost some but not all of its power. Their eyes remained locked for another moment in the tense silence that ruled the massive halls. Her heart involuntarily skipped a beat as his eyes seemed to shoot silver sparks from their moon-gray depths, making her blink and lower her gaze. Without a word she turned on her heels and hastened back to their chambers, wishing them nearer every step she took and the King farther away then she knew he still was.

* * *

The echoes of her receding footsteps still in his ears, Thorin balled his fists in frustration. He did not know how long he had been standing there. More importantly, he had no idea how long she had been hovering there on the threshold, observing him with those unnervingly blue eyes. Pinning him down and making a shiver run down his spine. And he would clearly not find out why she had been there when his voice had been stuck in his throat and she had already disappeared but moments ago leaving him truly on his own this time.

He grumbled a sigh, frowning as his eyes lingered on the impeccable solid sea of gold underfoot. Tearing them brusquely away from the deep, honey-yellow surface that seemed to glow in the light seeping in through the shafts high above, he turned back to face the Throne. He slowly approached it, robe tugging at his shoulders as it dragged behind him until he reached the steps leading up to the carven seat. He placed his boot on the first one then froze in his movement again, one hand still resting on Orcrist's curved hilt fashioned out of carved and polished ivory, the other rubbing his chin. As he gazed at the Throne he remembered his grandfather in it and thought of those Kings of old that had sat on it before him. He saw the same crown he wore now on each of their heads and almost cowered at their collective stern gazes that pervaded through the past to bore into his wavering eyes. _Why did he feel so far removed from them_..?

"There you are, Brother. I have looked all over the Mountain for you."

Lost in his thoughts he had not heard Dís approach and could but just repress the instinctive reflex to draw his sword. A life of violent War and nearly constant strife had beat that particular reaction into him though it would be of no use to him if he had grown this deaf to the presence of others. For the second time he was no longer alone in the Gallery of Kings.

"Forgive me, Sister, for not being easily found." He apologized, straightening as he retraced his steps without looking away from the throne yet.

"I trust your meeting with Cousin Daín was satisfactory?" She asked him calmly, though he could tell she was anxious for him to answer her truthfully.

"Aye. It was." He assured her, finally turning to look at her.

"The surrounding lands are safe then?" She probed in a sober voice as she came to a halt, lifting the veil of black chiffon over her face and letting it cover her light-gray hair. He waited for the familiar _tinkle_ of her swaying earrings to be swallowed by the silence of the immense halls as he returned her earnest gaze.

"Safe enough." He granted, clasping his hands behind his back as he started to pace in front of her in a leisurely way thought he felt anything but at ease. Having stolen a glance at the entrance through which Dís had entered, the image of the Lady Edúr framed by the huge archway had entered his mind unbidden yet again.

"I am glad of it." His Sister began, interlacing her fingers in front of her though they all but disappeared underneath the long sleeves of her dress of mourning, "We need peace and stability if we are to thrive as a Keep again for I doubt we would survive the winter let alone beyond should the Master of New Dale be unable to supply us with that which we need and cannot produce on our own. That in turn would also disrupt the indirect trade with the Elven folk of Mirkwood whose food we still rely on for the greater part. Not with all the goodwill, duty and loyalty can we hope to prosper when the Miner, Merchant and Warrior alike suffer from an empty stomach."

His mouth quirked at her uncanny ability to sound like the most seasoned politician on his Council, "The Dwarf that fails to recognize your keen insight is a fool indeed, Dear Sister."

She huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head and circling him with long, elegant strides now he had stopped his own pacing and remarked wisely, "No more a fool than a King that doubts his own destiny to lead his subjects to prosperity once more."

"I do not doubt Erebor will be rebuild, become again that which it had been for centuries before we were even born." He corrected her, his voice firm and resolute. She nodded in acknowledgement of the fervor and conviction behind his words, completing her circle around him and taking a step closer towards him once she had.

"What is it then that troubles you?"

"That I do not know the role I will play in it." He admitted, his hands behind his back clasping even tighter, "Ever since we settled in the Blue Mountains my heart has yearned for this. To return to the Lonely Mountain. To take back the lives and home that was stolen from us by that vile Slug." Thorin took a moment to bury the hatred for the Fire Drake before he went on, "Erebor has been retaken, we reclaimed our chance at a future fate had seemingly robbed us of. And now I find myself at the brink of a new Day and yet I cannot but still look back at what has been lost. At those who remain in the dark and cannot step into the light that is before us.."

Dís cast her eyes down, lips slightly trembling as she swallowed hard, "So do I." She whispered, soon lifting her chin up again in that proud and determined way he knew so well, "But this does not mean you are truly blind to that which has also been gained. You will see this in time, as will I. And you will see the sun rise after it has set behind you. And you will bid the night goodbye and face the dawn, strong and unbending like our forefathers."

She took another step closer, voice steadily growing in volume and her brown eyes acquiring a passionate gleam, "You are meant to be but one of the pillars surrounding us, as is every Dwarf in this Mountain, but you will be the one that will prove vital in supporting the ceiling, raising it higher so that your people may grow, prevent it from collapsing and crushing our hopes for a better tomorrow still so fragile. You will be a great King, my dear Brother. If only you would but believe in it yourself.."

Thorin swallowed down a lump in his throat, placing his hands on her shoulders, "I pray to _Mahal_ you are right, Sister. Until that day know I have and always will value your support beyond any of the riches this Mountain harbors."

"I already did. Nor will I forget it. _Astu lo zusul_ , _nadad_. " *

"And I am thankful for it, _nana'_.. "* He told her, adding in an apologetic tone, "Though at present I feel I am in need of solitude. Indulge me and leave me be for a moment. I require fresh air before returning to the Council Chamber and the assembly that awaits me there."

Dís smiled in understanding, dipping her chin to her chest, "Very well."

His mouth curved in response at her attempt to lighten his mood as she curtseyed reverently to him and the throne behind him. Her eyes glistened in joyful pride and he watched her walk all the way until she had disappeared around the exact same corner a very different Dwarrowdam had done before her. Brows instantly creasing at that thought he spurred himself into motion. Like his Sister he made a curt but no less respectful bow to the empty carven seat and strode out of the Gallery.

Thorin headed for the Gate Room, avoiding the many Dwarves milling around in it and climbing the steps leading to the ramparts. He inclined his head to the armored Guards crossing their arms over their chests as he passed, not stopping until he stood right above the heavily fortified doors which were now swung open. For a moment he simply gazed down on the coming and going of Dwarves, most of whom did not cross the Bridge to enter the valley leading to Dale beyond. Instead they ventured out with varying degrees of caution on the moat that was frozen solid by the incessant cold that had recently harassed the Mountain.

Wanting to go down and inspect the bolts Nori had affixed to the doors but days ago -fearing the freezing temperatures might have damaged them- he hesitated to go through with it when he spotted the slender figure of a Dwarrow maiden whose amber-colored hair peeped out from under the hood of a cloak that could not be warm enough. He recognized Bofur and her cousin with her, both already on the ice and gesturing for her to do the same. Making up his mind, Thorin threw one last look at the Lady Edúr, strangely reveling in the fact that she was now the one not to notice his observing her, then once again clasped his hands behind his back and descended the steps with purposeful strides.

* * *

Cold wind was biting unforgivingly at her nose and numbing her fingers. Edúr wrapped her cloak tighter around herself and wriggled her toes inside her boots to warm them up. The air she inhaled chilled her lungs and made her puff out breathy clouds that whirled lazily towards the clear blue sky overhead. She stood on the brink of a frozen river which ran under the bridge leading to the gates and then snaked its way across the plains beyond. All around Dwarves were either carefully testing out the ice or apprehensively watching others do it. Once the first had stepped out onto it and the thick layer of frozen water proved to be strong enough to carry their weight more followed. Soon there were dozens gliding over the slippery surface and sounds of excitement steadily grew.

Edúr searched for her cousin among the Dwarves whizzing passed and smiled to herself when she found him. He was still animatedly talking to a young Dwarrow maiden with dazzling chocolate-brown eyes and bouncy hazel curls. Their arms interlocked they swirled around each other and over the ice. Every time they came close, Niam would try to wave at her but like each of the times before, this would cause the two to almost lose their precarious balance and hold on to each other even tighter when they moved away again. She lowered her gaze, warily eying the glassy ice. She would but have to take one step to stand on it. Both Niam and Bofur had been trying to convince her to join them but she had declined their offers of assistance. Instead she stared back into her own eyes, the frozen water so clear it mirrored her reflection.

"You all right, there, My Lady?" She looked up to see Bofur approach, briefly lifting his floppy hat at her. He had been the one to bring Niam and her down here with the promise the experience would be worth the cold. She had only just found her way back to their chambers and before she could answer her cousin's worried inquiries when this had taken her a longer time than it had for him to return from the forges Bofur had barged inside, soon after dragging the both of them with him. Teeth chattering too much, Edúr nodded to the Dwarf instead.

"You sure you don't want to give it a try?" He probed, cocking his head to the side and narrowing one eye as a wide and enticing grin split his face.

"That I am." She assured him, trying not to sound impolite but have him understand she was dead set not to set foot on the ice at the same time.

"It'd be my honor, you know." Bofur said, offering his arm as if he was asking her to dance. The gesture brought a fleeting smile to her face but she soon shook her head, "I do not wish to make it mine to have you come crushing down and break through the ice with me."

"Oh, there's nothing to it, really. Anyone could do it." Bofur hooked the thumb of one hand behind his belt and raised the other at shoulder's height, shuffling crab-like to the right before swirling around his axis and sliding smoothly back to stand before her again.

"Almost anyone." She corrected him as he beamed expectantly at her after his little demonstration.

"And I really can't tempt you?"

"I am afraid not."

Bofur shrugged good-humoredly, apparently giving up at last, "Fair enough." He said, adding with a sudden serious frown, "though if you really don't want to run the risk of ending up on the ice you best take a step back, someone might accidentally give you a little push."

Instantly apprehensive because of his warning, Edúr threw a quick look over her shoulder. Next moment she realized the fool she had been to do so. She felt two calloused hands grab her by both her wrists and pull her forward. Before she knew it she had unwillingly left the steady world of solid ground and stumbled onto the treacherous domain of slippery ice. Bofur almost instantly let go of her and deftly circled around her, shouting words of encouragement in her direction unaware of the panic rising inside her. Desperately wanting to turn around and return to the shore that she hoped was still close by, Edúr took a few faltering steps to try out just how much control she still had over her limbs and movement. It was as she feared. The attempt to lift her boot alone had almost made her lose her balance. She chose to remain still instead though her feet now moved on their own accord and she had to stretch out her arms to compensate for the unpredictable movements. It soon proved to be nearly impossible to regain a steady footing and she frantically flailed around in search of support to help her keep standing and not fall because of all her wild twisting and turning. Next instant she all but bumped into something solid nearby. Edúr gratefully latched on to the tall Dwarf's coat, fingers gripping the thick dark fur like claws. She froze when her eyes fell on the engravings on the silver clasp resting between collarbones over the edges of which cascaded long, ink black hair. She swallowed hard as she recognized the Seven Stars etched in an arch over a Crown set above a Hammer and Anvil: the Sign of Durin...

~Thanks for Reading & Please Review, I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~

* * *

*" _Astu lo zusul_ , _nadad_." = "You are not alone, Brother."

*" _nana'_.." = "Sister.."

 _All the credit for the Khuzdul translations goes to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** **Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows! :D**

 _Robinbird79: Thanks for leaving me a review! It was a bit of a sneaky ending (gee, I wonder who that Dwarf she bumped into is…? hihi P) but I'm glad you liked it!_

 _SethadoreVGC: I appreciate your enthusiasm, haha, and I can only agree with that statement I think ;) Hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story too & thanks for the review!_

 _Angie: I initially wanted to make it a longer chapter but the cliffhanger was simply too teasing and tempting so I stopped it there ;P I'm afraid Edúr is as bad (read: clumsy!) as me on the ice, I can totally relate to how she must feel, though of course in my case there is never a certain handsome dwarf I can latch onto for balance (if only!) haha Thanks for letting me know what you thought of the previous chapter and I hope you'll like Thorin's reaction! :)_

 _BCgurlie: It's so good to hear that you like the dynamics of the story, I never really know whether things like character interaction and plot work together smoothly or if there's discrepancy between pace, character development etc. In short, your positive feedback on this account is much appreciated! ;) And yes, I can't wait for the two of them to realize what they mean to each other but those feelings are still only just beginning to grow stronger and there'll be some stumbling blocks up ahead (the fate of her father being one of them), but I hope you'll stick with this story right until the end! Thanks for your review!_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XIII**

THE King did not move. He stood with one boot on the shore and the other on the frozen river like an anchor for her to hold on to. Looking up into his face she was not even sure he was aware of her clenching and awkward embrace. Seemingly lost in deep thought his misty eyes were cast down, directed at the thick ice underfoot and she thought she could detect his expression darkening as his forehead wrinkled in a frown. Then he lifted his chin and at last returned her prying gaze. Even though she had been determined not to break off eye-contact first -sheer stubborn pride alone would have urged her not to- she now instinctively lowered her own. The intensity burning in his eyes like embers still glowing in a hearth's dying fire had left her no choice. She tried to loosen her grip on the downy, rich black fur but the attempt only caused her feet to slip on the ice and she ended up pressed to his chest even more, fingers digging deeper into the soft material so she would not fall. A whispered curse in Khuzdul passed her lips, not only because she had almost lost her balance in her effort to move away from the King but more so now she felt betrayed by her own heart with its sudden erratic beating. It had no business making her fluster just because she happened to be so near to the one Dwarf she had been trying to avoid.

"We only came outside to test the ice," she quickly explained her cousin's and her own presence outside of the gates, his enduring silence having prompted her to be the first to talk though it was more to the sapphire blue sur coat she still clutched then his face now it was so uncomfortably close to her own, "I speak not just for myself but for Niam also that we did not intend to defy your orders and leave-"

"I know." He cut her short in a gravelly voice that sounded halfway between annoyed at her assumption he would be angry and calmly reassuring that in fact he was not. Taken somewhat aback by those two opposing undertones, Edúr hesitated what to say in return. She chanced a careful look at his face, eyes instantly glued to his once they met. On the verge of thanking him for his support though she was increasingly anxious to free herself of it, he found his voice quicker and added to the terse sentence he had uttered earlier, "Even if you had been tempted to do so, my guards would have stopped you the moment you tried to cross the bridge.."

From her current position she could not see them but Edúr had not failed to notice the many armored Warriors patrolling the arched road when they had first passed through the Gates. She grinded her teeth in response now his statement had not so subtly reminded her of how incredibly trapped she felt, in the cage that was Erebor as well as in desperately clinging to him now. The King seemed not to notice her inner turmoil, making her realize with a surge of anger he must be used to having the power to take someone's freedom away from them. Not that in her case she had anywhere to go. It was not just his demand that made her stay. After all, her Keep almost certainly lost to her, she would now forever be without a home..

"Would that be the bridge no longer needed to cross the moat?" She bit out, that last depressing thought feeding her annoyance with the King and having her give in to the desire to lash out at him while she pointedly tapped her boot on the frozen river below them to prove her point.

Impervious to her stinging remark he simply reached out and slid one arm around her waist to steady her now the stubborn movement had made her dangerously close to losing her balance once again, threatening to take him with her in the process.

"I think some might still need it." He answered her sounding somewhat bemused, adding knowingly, "Although clearly you would have had no trouble in crossing the ice.."

The retort she had been meaning to utter died on her lips when she thought she could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Next instant it was gone, his lips returned to being a straight line and she could not tell whether it had been really there or not. The King's hand gently pressed against the small of her back, first steadying her and then guiding her off the ice. The moment she could trust her feet again not to slip from right under her Edúr let go of his fur lined robe and took a step back, glad to create more distance between the two of them. She avoided looking at him on purpose, unsure whether to feel annoyed, embarrassed or grateful. Undecided she tugged at the hood covering her head, tempted to give in to the irrational urge to pull it all the way over her eyes so she could deny his close proximity to her. A freezing wind grabbed her cloak, making her shiver and pull it tighter around herself.

"You are cold.." The King next to her said in a low tone and she could hear his boots grind the snow that covered the ground as he stepped closer.

"I'm fine-" Edúr began but he did not let her finish.

"Balin.." He called over to the white-haired Dwarf who she only now noticed was standing but a few paces away. Balin hurriedly excused himself with a curt bow to the haughty looking and jewel laden Dwarrowdam standing on his side. Judging by the look of relief on his wrinkled face he had been glad to escape. Either that or he had been observing the two of them and dreaded their tempers to flare up once again like before. Something stirring inside of her, Edúr suspected she was right and that he had not been paying a lot of attention to whatever it was his companion had been telling him seeing his gaze lingered a moment too long on both herself and the King as he hastened over. She still fervently hoped he had not witnessed their awkward struggle on the ice but feared there was no way he had not.

"Take the Lady Edúr inside. The fires in the Main Room of the Royal Chambers will offer sufficient warmth." The King ordered him somewhat strainedly, not waiting for Balin to respond.

"I will see to it at once, Thorin." The old Dwarf called after him as he disappeared in the crowd gathered along the moat without another word or even an acknowledging look in her direction. Edúr could not help but stare after him, brows furrowing now she was at a loss and did not know what to make of his behavior. It seemed the King could be kind one moment -almost smile even-, then curt and gruff the next. She let out a frustrated sigh, unsatisfied with her own inability to sketch his character and not having come even an inch closer to unraveling it.

"Best come along now, lass, we'll have you warm again in a jiffy." Balin encouraged her with a friendly smile the moment she had turned back to him. She nodded, glimpsing Bofur laughing and waving her goodbye from the ice as she made to go. Trudging through the snow on her way to the gates she briefly caught sight of Niam, who was still as engrossed by his company as ever, before he was swallowed up by the many Dwarves twirling and zooming over the frozen water. Stamping her boots to get rid of the surplus of sticky white powder on it as Balin did the same with his pointy ones, she heard a loud, indignant _caw_ behind her. When she looked up she instantly perceived a black feathery ball in the sky that grew steadily larger. She called out his name and but a short moment later Morkai had swooped down and landed on her shoulder. Patiently waiting for her and her loyal Raven, Balin placed a hand on her shoulder as she fell into step next to him. Thankful for the support she tried to repress the mixed feelings coursing through her as he steered her through the labyrinth of corridors and away from the harsh, wintery weather outside.

Upon entering the Royal Chambers one quick glance around the spacious and sparsely furnished room told her it was empty but for her and Balin. She did not need his guidance or persuasion to near the fire raging in the lavishly engraved, marble hearth, casting an orange, flickering glow on the vaulted ceiling above. Standing as close to it as she dared, Edúr spread out her hands and held them over the flames, greedily leeching their warmth. Perched on her shoulder, Morkai caringly poked her cheek with his beak once, his way of letting her know he was also glad to be within reach of the fire's agreeable heat. She stretched her fingers and was pleased to find the numbing sensation was slowly but surely being replaced by a pleasantly tingling one. Balin joined them, one elbow resting on the mantelpiece as together they silently stared at the burning logs in the iron grate.

"Where is the Lady Dís?" She asked him with genuine concern, her thoughts having drifted to the last time she was in these chambers to bring the jewelry box to her. When he remained silent a moment longer she averted her gaze from the flames to the Dwarf's face. Seeing that the lines in his face had hardened and he rubbed his forehead as if contemplating how and whether to answer her she instantly regretted her question. Eventually Balin let out a deep sigh and looked up, not at her but directing his eyes instead to a large tapestry that hung against the marble wall above the hearth.

"She will have gone to the tombs. To visit the crypt of.. Of.." His voice trembled and broke off. His obvious sorrow causing her own to stir in the depths of her heart, Edúr swallowed hard and watched him as his gloved hand reached out for the family tree embroidered on the wine-red fabric. With his fingers he gingerly traced the lines running from the King's only Sister to her two Sons. Balin opened his mouth then, when his voice had seemingly been stuck in his throat, he closed it again and shook his head. She took a step closer, not knowing what to say and remembering but all too vividly the despairing sadness in the Dwarrowdam's brown eyes when she had thanked her yesterday for bringing her the box.

And yet, although burdened by her understandable grief Edúr shivered despite the fact her body had become warm again as she also remembered how strong and unbreakable Lady Dís seemed to her. Staring at the Sign Of Durin, stitched in golden runes at the top of the tapestry and near the ceiling, forcefully reminded her of the silver clasp on the King's robe, making her wonder if he resembled his sibling in this sense. Regardless of what had happened outside not an hour past she still could not shake the image of the King alone in that vast Gallery which had made her feel smothered by its sheer size and history. _How must it have made him feel_? She narrowed her eyes, ruminating on how she had thought to have glimpsed a different side of him on the ice but he had hidden it away again so fast it had undoubtedly not been there at all.

Morkai suddenly dug his claws in her shoulders and took off, abruptly ending her musings. He flapped his wings once or twice and landed on the back of one of the chairs in front of the fire. It had been carved out of the same green-white marble as most of the Keep's interior was and sheepskin rugs were draped over it to make it comfortable to sit in. He let out a series of shorter and longer croaks and she let her gaze stray over to a far corner of the tapestry. She gasped the moment she spotted what Morkai had told her was there, with his keen eyesight he had seen it before she had even thought of it. Among dozen other family crests belonging to the different Houses of Nobility was the one with the familiar Raven and Axe, the former intertwining around the latter almost as a vine would around a tree. Faded black and silver threads possibly as old as Erebor itself. _And It might well be all that was left of her Clan_..

With Balin's and the memory of Lady Dís' grief like a tangible entity in the room with her, her own sorrow seemed finally to have burst free of its restraints. The realization that she did not even possess a grave to visit but only had the haunting uncertainty that they might not have perished when truly there was little to no chance they had not, pressed down hard on her shoulders. She knew she could never hope to be able to carry that weight. She was certain now she could not do this on her own. Next to her Balin stirred and she watched him as he turned away from the tapestry now he similarly threatened to be overcome by emotion. An irrational fear that he would leave her suddenly seized her and she took another step closer to him.

"Please, do not go.." She pleaded, her voice hoarse and tears she could no longer hold back streaming down her cheeks, "I do not want to be alone.."

When the old Dwarf perceived her distress he instantly rushed over to her, huffing out a watery smile and his own eyes sheening with tears, "I am not going anywhere, lass. Don't you worry on that account." He enveloped her with his arms, hands patting on her back as she heaved with sobs. Burying her face into his prickly beard, it was impossible to contain the grief she did not want to be hers. She could hardly believe was hers. But she realized now it was. And from this day hence always would be...

* * *

Staring down at his somewhat distorted reflection on the ice had inadvertently forced him to remember the last time he had done so. It had not been his own face but that of the Pale Orc that had drifted sleep-like on the freezing current of water streaming below. A powerful shiver had gone through him as he again saw those cold, lightless eyes open only moments before his sword had crushed through the thick layer of ice and skewered his foot right through his boot. The memory had no doubt been why Thorin had felt momentarily paralyzed when he had half stepped out onto the slippery surface of the frozen moat to assist the Lady Edúr. He had not intended to mingle and participate with the contagious mirth of the Dwarves outside of the gates and yet, despite his resolution to return his attention to the many tasks the day still held for him, he had found himself ambling along the brink of the moat once he had been satisfied the new bolts on the massive doors were unaffected by the cold and there was no need to send for Nori.

Before he knew it he had neared Lady Edúr, watched how Bofur had pulled her onto the ice and had eventually given in to the impulse to intervene as he had watched her failing attempts to steady herself. He had not been able to unravel the look on her face as she had stared back, eyes interlocked just as they had been in the Gallery of Kings. The haunting memory of his defeated enemy still weighing on his mind his initial silence had had her speak first, something he had felt grateful for -especially seeing her sudden closeness to him had unsettled him more than he cared to admit-, but the sensation had been short lived as he had picked up on the defensive and even hostile tone of her voice.

As he nodded in the direction of the guard that had been delivering the report he had demanded of him but not listened very attentively to, Thorin started across the bridge, still in the dark as to how to interpret the exchange between himself and Lady Edúr. He looked up towards the sky where clouds heavy with snow had packed together. It would not be long before they would burst and release their burden on a pristinely white landscape already covered in a thick blanket of the ice crystals in their belly. Knowing he would have to dispatch a patrol to inspect the conditions of the road leading from the Mountain to Dale which it then circled to snake its way to the Long Lake below, Thorin passed through the Gate Room and headed for the Council Chamber. He was half way there when he stopped in his tracks at the forked path in front of him. After a short internal debate, he decided to follow the one on his right which he knew would take him to a very different destination.

He swung open the heavy doors, instantly letting go of the golden rings he had pulled as they always seemed to sear and prickle against the skin on his hands though it was foolish of him to believe and feel this. Not having taken more than a few steps into the Main Room of the Royal Chambers there was a ruffling sound as that of wings stretching and folding followed by an ear grating screech. From the corner of his eyes he could see a black mass approaching fast but even before he had the time to turn in its direction it was already upon him. Thorin protectively raised his arm in front of his face as the Raven he recognized with an unpleasant jolt traveling through him dived towards him. Cawing and beak snapping shut threateningly an inch from his fingers the bird wildly flapped its wings so feathers rained down upon him. Frustration steadily building now he did not understand the old dialect of Raven Speech the maddened creature used Thorin cursed under his breath, taking a step back with each feigned attack of warning. As a last resort he tried to calm it in Khuzdul, assure it he had no bad intentions towards it but he was not overly surprised the bird seemed not inclined to believe him with something like shame burning in his face. After all, the last time he had seen it he had send his mistress to the dungeons, condemning it to the same miserable fate.

"Morkai!" Lady Edúr's clear voice rang out, silencing the Raven at once. He could hear a string of strange words that seemed a perfect blending of the ancient Dwarven language and the guttural sounds native to the mighty Bird race as she called it to her. Air brushed his hair as the Raven obeyed with a powerful stroke of his wings and Thorin cautiously lowered his arm now it was safe again to do so. His eyes followed the large, black bird, a familiar annoyance flaring up since he suspected she had undoubtedly delayed in calling him off on purpose thought it was quickly quelled at catching a glimpse of her tear streaked face. The fact that her obvious distress briefly made his own heart ache had him curse inwardly as he forcefully repressed that painfully stinging sensation.

Before he or Balin, who was standing close to the Lady Edúr near the roaring fire in the hearth behind them, could say anything or even move she rushed passed him, grazing his shoulder as she did. When he had turned around in an attempt to stop her she had already fled the room and the marble door closed inches before his face with a dull and resounding _thud_. Not having the slightest inkling as to how to break the tense silence that she had left in her wake, Thorin remained rooted to the spot, staring at the door without really seeing it.

Everything had happened so fast that he had trouble in believing she had really been this fragile Dwarf when, but little more than a moon ago, that first day in the Gallery of Kings she had been as intimidating as a wild boar defending its young with sharpened tusks at the ready. There had been no sign of that defiant maiden just now. Instead she had been trembling. And she had been crying.. The truth hit him as hard as if he had actually slammed into the door before him. How could he have been blind to her grieving the loss of her loved ones as so many others after the Battle of the Five Armies were. As was his Sister. As was he.. She had probably held it in all this time and all the while he had been adding to that strain, not easing it. It might be too late but he would not forgive himself if he at least not attempted to make amends for his treatment of her. Struck by a sudden idea, Thorin took a step forward and threw open both doors with a mighty push when Balin called out to him.

"Thorin! Wait..!" The old Dwarf begged him earnestly, making his resolve waver as he had one boot already placed on the threshold. "It might be best to let her go.. Give her some time to recover."

Although Thorin could not deny the validity of his trusted friend's advice his mind was already set on acting on the idea that had entered it. His determination once ignited was not easily quenched. Besides, Balin was wrong in thinking him capable of pursuing the Lady Edúr now she was this upset. There was no time nor did he feel like explaining this to him now though. Ignoring the sputtering sounds of protest behind him, Thorin's hands slid from the smoothed, marble surface of the doors to his left and right and he stepped out into the deserted hallway beyond.

"Where are you going? Thorin..? Thorin?!"

He could still hear Balin's raised voice as he increased his pace until it was inevitably cut off by the almost crushing sound of marble against marble as the doors fell into place again with a heavy sigh.

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~Thanks for Reading & Please Review, I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** **Hi Everyone! Thanks a lot for the reviews, favs and follows! I appreciate the support! :D**

 _Robinbird79: I felt it was about time Thorin opened his eyes to what she's going through, I guess now it's her turn to understand what he's still struggling with, in fact they both have to open up a bit more from now on. I hope you don't mind it's a bit of a slow burn romance (and that might be an understatement ;p) and thanks for your review!_

 _Angie: Yes, their relationship is starting to improve (and about time too! ;p), it'll slowly progress from now on as they'll gradually understand each other better. I guess I wanted Thorin to show a different side to himself, what better way to do it than scoop her in his arms and guide her off the slippery ice hihi How chivalrous! ;) I'm so glad you like Balin, it's like he writes himself and I don't have to do anything. And I have this strange affection for Morkai! Seriously, I'd love to have a pet raven! :D As always thanks for the review and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter too!_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XIV**

SHE woke to the familiar tune of a song she had thought long forgotten and the melody of which had weaved in and out of her troubled dreams. Guided by the soft sound of the flute she got out of bed and opened the door so she could peer into the main room through the crack. Niam was sitting in the deep window sill, one leg pulled up and tucked under the other and he leaned slightly forward with hunched shoulders. His eyes were closed as he held the slender instrument carved out of wood to his lips while his fingers moved over it with the agility and ease that came from years of practice. The music he made filled the entire room, invaded every fiber of her being and seemed to seep into the stone walls that either enhanced or dampened it in turn. Entranced by the rising and falling pitches of the song Edúr stepped over the threshold raising her hand for Morkai to perch on the back of it. The marble felt cold underfoot as she approached but she was hardly aware of it as memory after memory flooded her mind. The ditty her cousin played started out slow like a brook's calming current then changed its tempo to that of the irregular rhythm of raindrops increasingly falling from the sky.

The song had no words and yet spoke of days long ago, of the past they shared and was a retelling of the lives of those before them. It recounted the unbreakable strength and the fragile vulnerability of their Clan's difficult but not less precious life in the far North. Though it was different from how she remembered it. Edúr closed her own eyes and stood still, listening intently to the melody and the occasional subtle change in it. There was a melancholy and sadness to it now that she had not truly understood before. But there was hope there also. Sometimes it was the light echo of a low tone, then the reverberating thrill of a high pitch. She could see before her their new life beginning to hatch though the guilt attached to that truth made her open her eyes so they rested on her cousin again. It filled her with happiness that he had his apprenticeship for it was tangible proof for his future here in Erebor, but her own heart beat uneasily at this realization.

They had been here for little more than one moon and she herself felt far from ready to think ahead. The yearning to know more about her birthplace, to one day perhaps even belong to it, seemed to her still like a betrayal to her father. In a way it was this seeming act of treason that she was guilty of not the one her grandfather and by extension the two of them had been falsely accused of. And yet.. Being little more than a prisoner in a realm she was not a part of made her feel incredibly useless and even more guilty. Niam was so young, she believed he would have the resilience to eventually rally. As for her. She did not want to ponder on just how utterly alone this made her feel.

As he played the last note Edúr could feel Morkai gurgling in his throat before letting out a loud caw as a tribute to the fading echoes of the song that had pulled on his heartstrings too. Niam opened his eyes and they instantly twinkled as he saw the pair of them watching him. They both remained silent now there was no need for words to express the myriad of thoughts and feelings that coursed through them. He slowly got to his feet, deftly turning around the flute he had carved himself when he was still but a Dwarrowling in his hands. He was about to stretch out his arm and offer it to her with a teasing smirk as he knew she could not play when there was a knock on the door.

Forgetting she wore but her nightgown she soon found herself face to face with a timid-looking servant as she moved to open it. The Dwarf opened his mouth to deliver his message but no sound came out at first when he noticed her scarce attire. Growing red in the face he had meant to politely avert his eyes but was thwarted as he spotted Morkai balancing himself on her hand which she held close to her chest. Without looking away from the Raven staring intimidatingly back at him, the servant hastily held out a folded piece of parchment then mumbled an apology the moment she had taken it, excused himself with a bow and scampered off. As she watched him go the specific shade of blue of his garments awakened a suspicion in her mind that she hoped was misplaced.

Morkai hopped off her hand and onto the mantelpiece on the other end of the room, pacing the ridge of it with the characteristic _tick_ - _tick_ - _tick_ of his claws on marble and expressly ignoring the message delivered to them as if his keen sense of smell had already told him who had sent it. Growing even more uncomfortable by her Raven's telling behavior Edúr turned around and ripped the seal open as the door closed behind her again, not wanting to study the crest on it for she feared it would only confirm her supposition.

"What is it?" Niam asked her, taking a step closer as he did. She reread the handful of sentences scribbled on the parchment once more before silently handing it over to her cousin. Without waiting for him to read it she locked herself in her room and started to get dressed, nervously focusing on tying up the daintily decorated bodice of a byzantine colored dress that had been the closest within reach. It also happened to make her skin appear even paler and clashed with her amber hair but she did not care. In an attempt to keep her mind busy and prevent it from following a particular channel she steered it towards her fingers instead as they braided her unbrushed hair in a random pattern, ignoring Niam's careful knocking on her bedroom door and his worried voice calling out her name.

Although she had for a moment fumbled with adjusting her skirt and had almost left with her boots on before slipping into the ankle height leather shoes she had found in a drawer of the wardrobe, only a few minutes had passed when she lifted the latch of her door. Next instant she had rushed passed Niam and was pulling open the one in the main room before he could stop her. He begged her to let him come with her, protested vehemently at her consequent and determined dismissal of his company but to her relief did not follow her as she stepped out into the hallway.

With the ghost of the song still in her ears, Edúr mentally but waveringly rode its calming waves as she made her way to the upper levels and the Royal Chambers located there though it did not stop her reliving the memory of the King walking in on her crying yesterday and wonder with blood rushing to her cheeks why in _Mahal_ 's name _he_ had summoned her to those very rooms now...

* * *

The wrinkled parchment crinkled as he shoved it away from him over the worn and gnarled surface of the ebony desk. Although time and dust had eaten away some of the ink, he had been relieved to firstly find what he had been looking for in the Library and even more so when it proved still legible. With the detailed map of Erebor's interior imprinted on his mind Thorin tore his eyes away from it and strode towards the Main Chamber now he could hear the thud of a door falling into place.

He approached just as the Lady Edúr curtseyed and the servant that had announced her left again after a hurried bow. Balin was half risen from his seat near the fire whereas Dís looked up from the string of Memory Beads in her hands. Both were obviously not expecting her visit and he could hear her apologize in that clear ringing voice he had already come to associate with her. It surprised him that, when she addressed someone other than himself, it could also sound soft and humble instead of defiant and stinging. The realization half tempted him to halt and not betray his presence so he could listen to it longer when he felt his Sister's inquiring eyes suddenly upon him.

"Lady Edúr, I thank you for coming so swiftly." He told her with an effort to keep his tone neutral and making her swivel around to face him. Thorin briefly inclined his head in her direction which seemingly threw her off balance even more. Not that this was so unexpected. After all, neither had exactly followed protocol in their interaction thus far. And perhaps they were both equally to blame for it. Eventually she set her doubts at least momentarily aside and settled on a similar dip of her chin with her eyes cast down. Despite the circumstances in which he had found her here yesterday in this very room, Thorin could not help but feel perhaps more pleased than he should at the fact that she had obeyed his summoning. Although no Dwarf in his right mind would normally deny a message from the King he somehow had not been sure that she would not.

"Come with me." He said curtly and walked passed her, relieved when he soon heard her lighter footsteps behind him. _Good_. _This would be easier if she did not fight his order_. As he made for the door he raised his hand to stop Balin who had made to join them. His friend froze awkwardly in his movement, eyebrows furrowing in a deep frown. From the corner of his eye Thorin could see him and Dís trade confused, even worried, glances which made him bristle. Before they could voice any of their misgivings or doubts, however, he already strode out of the room with the Lady Edúr in his wake.

He set out for the South Wing at a brisk pace, exerting some power of will to resist the urge to look back over his shoulder. Not that he needed to do that to know she was still there. The steady sound of leather on marble trailed after him and she obediently followed him in silence. They met almost no one on their way until they reached the corridor that was partly sealed off by debris. The zigzagging stair it ended in was littered with large boulders and the steps had chunks missing as if a stone eating troll had feasted on them. Thorin merely grunted at the pair of armored Dwarves that stood guard before it then started the steep ascent before him. With the first rugged piece of rock partly obstructing the way forward he chanced a quick glance over his shoulder but Lady Edúr seemed to have no problem in walking around it even when this meant having to cling onto it as she did or else risk a fall into the depths of the Mountain below. Further on the broad stairs were increasingly reduced to a narrow and treacherous climb but she did not even blink at this and so they simply kept going in silence. Soon Thorin discerned the level he had intended for them to go to though the map he had studied had obviously not included the last hurdle they would still need to take to get there. Up ahead the stairs were actually missing a few steps that had crumbled and fallen away but recently. He halted before the narrow but not less dangerous gap and turned around to wait for his companion. She had made slower progress this last part, not out of fatigue but because her gaze had strayed now and then to the beckoning lights of torches and lanterns that burned sullenly to lift the dimness of Erebor's vast interior. The glowing light was scattered over the levels they passed and dangled from archways crossing their stairs overhead or below. Everywhere it casted flickering shadows on the gleaming marble walls and floors underfoot while lending brightness to the golden runes that ran across bands a coal black, both greedily soaking in the precious and sparse light.

Once she had reached him, Thorin held out his hand to help her across the small chasm but she either did not see it or chose to ignore it. Next moment she nimbly placed her feet on the ridge and had made it to the other side before he could even do so much as warn her to be careful. Not of a mind to remain behind and be outdone by a maiden he followed her example then soon took the lead again, this time with a frown creasing his forehead and unsure whether to feel impressed or annoyed by her independence.

At the top of the stairs there were three paths that branched off and ran on as shadowy hallways into the Mountain. He told her to stay close as they took the left most corridor, remembering the maze that were the living quarters of the Noble families that had resided on the South Wing all those years ago. Like his companion he slowed his pace to warily look around at the severe damage this part of Erebor had suffered. It was not hard to guess as to what had caused it either. Although he had inspected other sections that had been in a similar state, this did not prepare him for yet more tangible reminders of the tragedy that had befallen his people's Stronghold.

Mentally forcing himself to push away the emotions threatening to resurface he instead focused on navigating through the rubble strewn, crisscrossing hallways and not much later they finally arrived at their destination. Behind him he could hear Lady Edúr gasp as she too recognized the family crest carven above a door frame that was now no more than a gaping hole. He held out his hand again and this time, though still somewhat hesitantly, she accepted his help as they stepped over the slab of broken stone that had once been a door and entered the spacious chamber beyond. There was pale sunlight streaming in through a row of high and tall windows, each arched at the top and divided in two by pillar shaped supports, illuminating a myriad of dust particles floating lazily in a breeze he could not feel as if the pace of time itself had come to almost a complete standstill. All across the room lay the remnants of broken furniture, everything covered in a thick layer of dust and soot. The fireplace had caved in and chunks of rock had left small craters in the floor where it had rained down upon it like hailstones in a winter storm. Worse than this were the blackened walls where fire had blasted it in full force and the collection of molten objects littering the room, hardly recognizable and reduced to mere deformed clumps. And then there was the unmistakable stench only a Dragon could leave behind that had contaminated this part of the Mountain.

Thorin let his eyes rest upon his companion's face, her blue eyes widened as they wandered over the surroundings, taking in the scars of destruction with one hand covering her mouth. With a jolt he realized he held the other still clutched in his own but felt uninclined to let go of it at the moment. Unaware of this, perhaps even of his very presence, Lady Edúr continued to gaze in horror at was before her. He proceeded further into the chamber, pulling her gently with him and entering an adjoining one. It was considerably smaller and less damaged too. Next instant he felt her fingers slipping from his and he had to repress the strange sensation of loss that briefly surged through him at this. She hastened to the center of the room and kneeled down next to a cradle which, although covered in cobwebs, was completely intact. It was not hard to imagine the Dwarrowling that had once slept in its silken embrace.

Before he could join her the Lady Edúr had already risen to her feet again and instead cautiously approached a mahogany sidetable set against the wall. She reached out and traced the sharp angles of the frame on it that held a fairly large portrait. The charcoal etch had grown faint event behind the glass that protected it but he could tell by her sharp intake of breath and diluted pupils that she had recognized the two Dwarves instantly. Mesmerized her fingers caressed the portrait of her parents, tenderly following the lines of their faces and finally resting on the two pair of eyes staring back at her in blissfully ignorant happiness.

"Is this... Were these chambers.." She asked in a subdued voice, not looking away from the Dwarrow and Dwarrowdam drawn on the yellowed canvas. Thorin took a step closer but halted when Lady Edúr whisked around at the sound of his approach. The way she clutched the portrait to her chest almost made him hold back on giving her an honest answer, but having taking her all this way he could not withhold it from her now.

"These quarters belonged to the House of Agor. Your family has dwelled in these rooms ever since Thráin the First settled in Erebor when Moria fell and later returned here from the Gray Mountains with my Grandfather. You are the first of your Clan to set foot in it again after nearly two centuries.." He told her sedately, hoping she would take his gesture to show her this place in the right way, though to be sure of this he added to explain his motives once and for all, "Now that repair works on the South Wing will start on the morrow, I thought you might wanted to see your family's home in privacy before it was crowded with Dwarves clearing out debris."

Lady Edúr arched a brow, throwing him something suspiciously close to a questioning look as she did so. "Well.. _Relative_ privacy." He corrected himself, his mouth mirroring the trace of a smile that tugged at the corners of her lips after this admission. She nodded, growing graver again as the short-lived mirth he thought he had perceived faded from her eyes again.

"Thank you." She said earnestly, causing his heart to suddenly throb against his ribs. He was more relieved than he knew he should have been when, oblivious of his discomfort, she turned her back on him and placed the frame on the sidetable again with a ginger care, saying thoughtfully, "I know I was born here. Just as I know these faces to belong to my parents. But I have no memory of this room, of the smiles on their faces.." She reached out and felt the walls as if she could wake the echoes of the past from their long slumber that way which had hidden in its crevices all this while. As if it could make appear the ghosts of the Dwarven couple once again bending over the cradle as they talked in hushed tones, laughed proudly at their daughter as she no doubt stared back in equal wonder, and perhaps cried together too that day they had been banished to a life in exile. It had been a cruel blessing that this event meant none of her House had perished when that vile Snake sacked the mightiest of Dwarven Kingdoms. Though, he realized with a pang of guilt, living in their Keep in the far North had condemned them to a similarly bleak fate it would seem. It was strange to think that without the War she would not have come to Erebor. They would not be in this room together now. He would have lived out his life in the Blue Mountains with unbearable regret and Erebor always on his mind whereas she would have been swallowed up by the spreading shadow of Gundabad without him ever having set eyes on her. And yet here they were. Both of them. Alive in a world that was starting over again whether they were ready for it or not. He supposed it was all the more proof that fate was an unpredictable path, always twisting and turning out of sight, never inclined to bend to his -or anyone's- will.

Lady Edúr sighed, seemingly giving up on capturing the remnants of the past and arms falling to her side as a result. "It is like all of this was part of a different life that could also have been mine. But it was taken away. From me. From my parents. From so many.." She paused, he could see her fists clench somewhat as she turned her face half towards him, adding without looking at him directly, "From you.."

This time it was Thorin himself that turned away from her at her words that instantly struck a chord within him. His heavy thoughts had half carried him back to that part in himself in which he had locked up those memories that threatened to escape his grasp now, so that he almost startled when she broke the silence.

"What was it like...?"

He inadvertently swallowed hard now the irrational idea entered his head that she had been reading his mind and had followed it until it had arrived at that fateful day. Though her question caught him off guard, she had sounded so sincere that it was impossible for him to condemn her longing to know. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts before he could answer. He paced the length of the room, hands clasped behind his back and nails digging into his flesh as he relived the memories that still haunted him, making him suspect that even time itself could not heal all wounds.

"I remember the wind ripping pines from the Mountain's skin, root and all." He started, standing still on the threshold and eyes roving once again over the damage scarring the room beyond, "I remember the sound of wings beating. How it reverberated in my eardrums and seemed to press against it with every powerful stroke. The next moment the Mountain was cast into shadow and the air crackled and heated up as Smaug unleashed his deadliest weapon. I can still remember how my heart pounded in my chest as the gates shattered and flames poured out of that monster's beak, killing almost every Warrior with whom I had waited for it. How his claws crushed life and the force of it travelled through my bones. All around me there was Dragon Fire consuming everything in its path. I can still see the faces of those Dwarves that crumbled to ash before my very eyes, whether they'd been Warriors, Merchant or Maiden, standing their ground paralyzed with fear or fleeing in mad haste. I can still hear the screams of those whose flesh burned and the wailing of those that witnessed their loved ones brutal deaths.." Thorin took a deep breath, both hands released from his grip and holding on to the doorframe for support instead, "Most of all, I remember having to turn our back against our home on fire and I shall never forget the black smoke curling out of the Mountain nor the despair on the faces of my people as we fled all that we had ever known and loved in life.."

He slowly raised his head, pride mastering the hurt in his heart despite his apprehension that it would not be able to, "And now, I have at long last returned to my ancestor's Keep. I would do anything to return Erebor to its former prosperity, see it thrive once more. Offer peace and happiness to my people. But above all, I want it to be the home again that I knew from long ago in the hope others that live within the Mountain, in time, might come to feel the same way. Never, _never_ will I allow a _dalat ikhg*_ to steal my home from me again. "

Turning around to face the Lady Edúr nothing could have prepared him for the determination that glinted in her eyes. She had fixed them on his, making it impossible for him to avert them. For a moment he grew instantly wary, not knowing whether the words that obviously hung on her lips were going to be an angry reproach or an offer of sympathy when they fell. Thorin held his breath, fervidly hoping his instinct was right and it would turn out to be the latter, if only for the very selfish reason that this would lend him more strength than the former ever could. And he was in need of strength...

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The profound sadness radiating off of him now had not prevented him from answering what she feared had been a too direct question with a vulnerable honesty that had not left her unmoved. Edúr took a moment to gather her courage though his turning around to face her again prompted her to speak before she would swallow down the words lying on her tongue, "I want to help. Do.. _Something_. I cannot wait for the next moon and the ones after doing nothing." She realized how exasperated she had sounded, making her hurriedly lower her voice in an attempt to amend and have her request appear like less of the demand that it might well be, "Would you allow it?"

The tenseness she had perceived in his squared shoulders lessened somewhat at her change in tone. He tilted his head to the side, a thoughtful look in his eyes, "That would depend on what _something_ would entail exactly."

"Anything. As long as I do not have to sit idly by while others do all the work. I would not want that to be my life in this Mountain." She was quick to answer him, feeling slightly insecure now she had not thought this far ahead and had voiced her wish perhaps prematurely however genuine. She groped around in her head but any practical suggestions eluded her. If she was honest with herself she had not anticipated the King would even be remotely open to the idea of her interfering with rebuilding Erebor.

"Nor would I." He nevertheless assented solemnly, adding in a distinctly lighter tone, "If only not to give you another reason to question my skills as a host."

"I did not question it before," Her deliberate pause had him raise an eyebrow before she finished her sentence, "for how could I criticize something that was not there?"

The King huffed in amusement then molded his face back in a sober expression in seeming haste to check the impulse to laugh. The pit of her stomach strangely tingled at the realization her words and frankness could do more than rile him.

"Fair enough." He granted her, inclining his head briefly either in recognition of her argument or as an act of atonement -she was not sure which she preferred it to be- then retraced his steps into the other room. After whispering a goodbye to her parent's portrait Edúr followed him, struck by a sudden idea as she did.

"I would like to help with the repairs for these chambers. Make it fit for living again and restore the memory of it. If I can.." Her voice trailed off now a lump in her throat made her waver and doubt if she would have the strength, be it physical or emotional, to carry out that particularly weighty task.

Appearing to be thinking along the same lines the King gave her a measuring stare that had blood rush to her face as he pondered on that proposal for a while. Eventually, a sigh escaped him and he nodded as if to seal her commitment with that gesture alone, saying in a deep tone, "Then you shall."

Before she could say anything to his concise approval or even thank him he preceded her towards the gaping hole through which they had entered. A jolt went through her before she could stop it as he held out a hand for her to take, a sensation that spiked the moment her fingers hesitantly touched his. She did not look up on purpose as they climbed over the rubble and broken stone slabs that was all that was left of the door, carefully keeping her eyes trained on her feet as she placed them on the treacherous surface and praying to _Mahal_ it would not shift and make her cling to him again as she had done on the ice.

The darkened hallway they stepped into made her squeeze her eyes to get used to the scarce light and see enough not to trip. Next to her she could feel the King was moving with caution too, his shoulder brushing against hers now and then when they each avoided collision with an obstacle blocking the way forward. Heart rate increasing with each step further away from the light behind them and into the shadowy corridor ahead Edúr felt torn between her pride urging her to let go of the King's hand and support, and the instinctive desire to hold on to it. Admonishing herself inwardly for these conflicting sentiments, deeming them both equally foolish, she attempted to retreat her fingers without actually wrenching herself free but was thwarted when his grip did not loosen at this. Instead she could feel the slightly rough skin of his fingers rub against her own as they enveloped hers more strongly in response. Her breathing quickened, it was hard to focus on where she was going in the poorly lit hallway when the only thing she seemed hyper aware of was the King's hand firmly holding on to hers in seeming unwillingness to let go yet.

"Forgive me, but it would not do to have you lose your way in the Mountain. For one, my Sister would never forgive me and I dare not kindle her wrath for she has the uncanny ability of transforming into a raving monster quicker than a skin-changer." He told her apologetically, though his voice sounded less firm than usual and she suspected he would not stop her from retreating her hand from his a second time. Staying the impulse to do so, Edúr let the warmth of his hand seep into hers, following him almost blindly in the dim hallway through which he guided her with an innate sense of direction she had always lacked. She blamed her present confusion for the fact she allowed him to lead her and could not keep her whirling thoughts at bay once they had found their way back to the cracked and debris littered stairs. She dared not chance a look at the King pulling her gently along with him, it was like she had never seen him before. She knew him to be gruff, coldhearted and inflammable. And yet he was also thoughtful, kind and filled with an incredibly caring and fierce passion when it came to Erebor and his people.

Edúr almost startled when her fingers slid out of his grasp before she realized they had made it to the bottom of the stairs. The orange glow from torches hanging from the walls lit the way forward, releasing the King from his apparent sense of obligation to hold on to her hand any longer. She briefly bristled at herself for not having been the first to let go when he stirred next to her. Catching her eye he bowed, a slight bending of his back so that he was still easily several inches taller than she was and gave her one last long look. Next moment he had disappeared around a corner, leaving her behind with the two Guards still standing to attention for company. She stared at the string of Runes glistening dully against the black ribbon running along the wall, but one thought occupying her mind: _Who_ _really was_ _Thorin, Son of Thráin, Son of Thror, King under the Mountain._..?

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~Thanks for Reading & Please Review, I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~

 **Khuzdul translations:**

*".. _dalat ikhg .._ " = "..stinking slug.." [lit. slug stinking]

 _All the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: ****Hi y'all! (…sorry, that sounded kinda cheesy, didn't it? Don't worry it'll be a one-off, promise! ;p) Thank you for the reviews, favs and follows! Seriously, I appreciate the support! :D**

 _Robinbird79: Thanks! Good to hear you thought it was interesting, kind of felt like I was getting on slippery ice (which ironically already happened in the chapter before ;p) with Thorin showing her those rooms, it was going to be confrontational for the both of them but especially her perhaps. Anyways, I'm glad you liked the personal moment between them that's what I wanted that scene to be about the most!_

 _Lalaithiel:_ _Thank you for reviewing..twice! :D I appreciate that you shared your thoughts with me on this story! I do see your point concerning Thorin, I just really hope that for the time being you'll give him the benefit of the doubt, I promise he will turn around and mend his ways! I feel his struggle to overcome Dragon Sickness on top of all of the bad stuff that happened in his life and the burden of being the one to lead his people is really starting to take its toll, which is the main reason for his behavior towards Edúr, plus I think the feelings he is starting to develop for her are so new to him that it throws him off balance even more, and the same can be said for Edúr too I think. But, again, don't worry, Thorin will definitely support her in finding out about the fate of her father (and by extension her entire clan save for Niam), the only reason he doesn't let her leave is because he knows she'll travel North and freeze to death before she gets there. And for Edúr, well, there isn't really anywhere else she can go, so it's either stay with her own race at Erebor or camp out in the ruins of Dale with Bard or go knocking at Thranduil's gates.. I don't know about you but I'd opt for hanging out with the handsome dwarven king haha ;) But anyways, hopefully I've put your mind at ease that I'll definitely make those two stubborn dwarves sit down now and then to actually talk about some things they really do need to talk about. Hope you'll read on and let me know what you think!_

 _Angie: I'm glad you liked the fact they shared an intimate moment, from now on I want to create a lot more of those so that they get the opportunity to learn more about each other, after all, who knows what will happen when they do? ;) I often feel Erebor is too big for me and my descriptions are going to fall utterly short of the awesomeness of it, but it's a relief to know that reading it you felt like you were there; that's my goal of writing! Thanks for your review, Angie!_

 _DD: Wow, I can't believe my scribbling actually alleviated your stress, but I'm so glad it did! I definitely write to get rid of some stress, just so I can immerse myself in a completely different world and it's great to know that for you reading it kind of has a similar effect, thanks for letting me know that, motivates me to write more :) And I have to say I'm relieved you find their progress to come across as natural, on the one hand I just want to cut to the 'happily-ever-after' bit but there's no way they could just magic away their individual issues like that. Plus the fun is supposed to be in the chase, right? ;)Thank you for leaving me a review and for hopefully not minding this is turning into a (very) slow burn romance!_

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 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XV**

HER palms were a reddish raw and her braid had hair sticking out at odd angles. Edúr wiped her sweaty forehead with the not so clean sleeve of her magenta colored dress, practically every muscle in her body protesting the simple movement. Although wincing from the stabbing pain shooting through her legs and arms she could not hold back a satisfied grin. She might be physically drained, but it was the first time in over a moon that she felt mentally recharged. Last night she had feared she would not be able to sleep in anticipation of the following day but after elaborately talking through her offer to help rebuild Erebor with Niam the quiet of her bedroom afterwards had sent her off in no time. Despite the feverish dreams which featured the heavily scarred and blackened chambers of her Clan she had felt energized and eager to follow Bifur as he had come to pick her up that morning. Another note from the King had informed her the day before that the black and white haired Dwarf was -as Head of the Stone Carvers Guild- charged with the repairs on the South Wing and would thus provide her with all the instruction she might need.

It had taken her the greater part of their walk to their destination to get familiar with deciphering the peculiar form of _iglishmêk_ that Bifur used whether they passed through crowded and noisy hallways or completely deserted and silent ones, making her feel slightly ashamed of her own rusty skills with the Dwarven Sign language. He had assigned her the task of making an inventory of the contents of every single chamber, as well as mapping out any obstacle that was blocking either entrances or corridors by cross referencing it with the ancient blueprints of the South Wing. She had been more than grateful for the assistance of Ori who, seeing he was a Scribe by trade, had followed her around with a parchment scroll and a charcoal pencil, scribbling away according to the observations she relayed to him. On his back he wore a basket like pack with several moldy books he had taken from the library. Whenever they had stumbled upon a chamber that had been partly caved in or a hallway that had turned into a dead end he would nervously fidget with the charcoal pencil, eventually tucking it behind his ear, and exchanging the parchment roll for one of the books. She had usually left him alone during these moments when he seemed transported to a different world as he diligently leafed through the pages, eyes flitting from left to right and chewing his lower lip until he had found what he had been looking for. Once they had compared the descriptions in the book with the current situation and adjusted it on the new layout Ori was sketching they would continue on their way again.

The fact that the skinny and young Dwarf constantly had his hands occupied inevitably meant that she had to climb piles of rubble, squeeze in through narrow crevices or crawl on hands and knees sometimes to be able to access a next chamber. Moreover, Ori was nothing if not thorough, he would simply stare at her in expectation, innocent eyes wide and charcoal at the ready hovering an inch above the parchment even though she had already been satisfied with their long list of burned furniture, shattered mirrors, molten candles and ripped curtains. Despite the Scribe's tendency to inspect every inch with the utmost scrutiny, they had made slow but steady progress. And yet, at the end of a long day they had not covered more than a handful of quarters which she reckoned would amount to not even a tenth of the vast and maze-like area the South Wing covered. Upon returning to where they had started it was clear Bifur had not been idle either. He and what seemed a legion of Stonecutters had zealously hacked away at the debris armed with chisels and hammers so they could hoist the smaller chunks of broken stone with cranes into old mine-carts to be taken away.

Gently massaging her sore hands that could not lift another stone even if should she want them to, Edúr was glad they had almost reached their quarters again. In all likelihood, tomorrow and many days beyond it were going to be similar to today, and so she felt in need of food and rest only. She had already said goodbye to Ori who had gone his own separate way some time ago to bring back the books he had borrowed from the Library. Even though they would need them again for as long as their task would last, the Dwarf had obviously considered it nothing short of sacrilege to not dutifully return the old, dusty books to their rightful place. Bifur was still walking next to her now -if she had understood his incoherent grunts and jerky gestures correctly- he had to follow the same path to get to the Dining Hall where the Company would gather most evenings. She felt a little too tired to join him, preferring to eat with just her cousin and Morkai for company. What was more, she wanted to inquire after how his apprenticeship with Nori was going and getting more than the polite and loyal though not less truthful reply he would be inclined to give if she asked him this in the presence of his tutor. It was this and not the thought that the King might be present as well which held her back. After all, there should not be a reason for her to feel nervous to face him, nor was it that strange that she wanted to postpone this until she had proven herself worthy and capable of executing the tasks the peculiar Dwarf walking next to her had set her. She was certain this was more not to prove a disappointment to herself than a certain Dwarf that had granted her this request in the first place..

"What in _Mahal's_ holy name?!" They had just turned the last corner before she would reach their chambers when a high-pitched voice cracked like a whip and invaded her ears, making her blood instantly run cold. Looking up she saw the Lady Dís, a raised fist to knock on the door she herself had been meaning to enter hovering in the air and head turned in her direction. She wore an expression the disturbing mix of heartfelt abhorrence and an almost indignant surprise. Next moment she came marching over, two meek and slightly cowering servants hurrying along behind her. They could barely keep up with their mistress as each was holding the handle of a sizeable and heavy-looking trunk that swung from side to side between them.

"What on earth happened to your dress?!" Lady Dís inquired in a demanding tone which inadvertently reminded her of the King, and going on to answer her own question before Edúr could, "Is it because of where my brother took you yesterday? I swear will have his beard for this!"

She grumpily clutched the golden amulet that dangled wildly on her chest because of her fierce stride, earrings swaying precariously and tinkling in annoyance with every angry step she took. The sight of pure rage that came her way almost made her take an instinctive step back but she could see that behind the Lady's infuriated facade there was mostly worry. To her dismay, however, a quick side-glance told her that Bifur had disappeared -seemingly into thin air- when the intimidating Dwarrowdam had caused him to no doubt have turned tail and flee. A part of Edúr could not blame him, fired up as Lady Dís now was she had to admit the truth of the King's words as he had compared his Sister to a ferocious skin-changer. The discovery made her dread just how formidable the King himself must be when he lost his temper, though she suspected she had glimpsed that side of him on a few occasions already.

"It is nothing, I assure you, My Lady." Edúr rather pointlessly dusted off her dress, not making much of a difference in looking any less smudged and disheveled. "And the King is not to blame for my current appearance." She hastened to clear his name before his Sister would make good on her threat, seeing a beard was a Dwarrow's greatest source of pride and often a sign of status she could not think of a worse punishment for the King regardless of the fact that he seemed devoid of vanity in that department.

"You are sure of this?" Lady Dís pressed her, narrowing her deep gray eyes that were so like her Brother's it made her unable to speak for a moment.

"Y-Yes. I am. I was simply not appropriately attired for today's work."

"Work?" The Dwarrowdam repeated, lowering her voice and arching a questioning brow.

"Well, it's not an official position, I am merely helping with the repairs on the South Wing now that the King has given me his permission for it." Edúr hastened to clarify,

"That is hardly a task fitting for a Lady. My Brother should not have approved of it. I cannot believe that he did.." Lady Dís muttered, crossing her arms across her chest so that the amulet around her neck was caught in the defiant embrace.

"It is not his fault. Truly, you must believe me. I was the one that suggested it. When yesterday the King showed me the chambers belonging to my family, I could not help but feel I needed to do something while I am here. And restoring those quarters along with the others on that level seemed a good place to start. I am sorry if I am proving a nuisance with this wish, but I cannot spend my days keeping to my room. I will not."

Edúr unclenched her fists she had unconsciously formed into balls when the Dwarrowdam in front of her eventually let out a sigh in resignation at the determination that she had not been able to keep from her seeping into her voice. She even thought she could detect a flicker of admiration in the Lady's eyes when she released her arms from their vine like grip on herself, "No. Of course. I thank you for speaking so plainly. I understand now why you want to do this. Every Dwarf needs a purpose in life, yours was stolen from you, it is only right you should be given every opportunity to create a new one here in Erebor."

She nodded in gratitude for her understanding, sore hands starting to throb even more and her tiredness washing over her again when the Lady Dís suddenly grew more earnest and added solemnly, "I do, however, entreat you to be careful. After all, rebuilding a Kingdom is not an easy task. And it is not without danger. It brings about risk to body, mind and soul."

The gravity in both her voice and eyes had Edúr swallow hard. The intense look she gave her making her feel she was referring to more than the visible scars of Smaug's attack, the memory of which lay as heavily on Erebor as the Serpent's penetrating stench in some parts of it did. _Was she also thinking of the King and the cursed gold that seemingly still had him in its greedy grasp_?

She had been on the verge of opening her mouth, of reassuring Lady Dís that she would not underestimate the task ahead of her, when she shook her head and a weak smile chased away the worry that had gathered in every line of her face and momentarily dampened the fire in her eyes.

"I apologize," She offered with a tilt of her head, expression sculpted back into one of utter control and elegant formality that must have taken her years to master, "I should not have forced you to have this conversation out in the hallway. Let us go inside for I came bearing gifts and it would not do to give those to you here."

Lady Dís swept around with a grace she could only dream of, pushing open the door before one of the servants rushing after her could do so. Had it not been their deserted chambers but the Gallery of Kings than she would still have demanded the attention of all the Dwarfs that could possibly fit in it without having to say a word now she strode inside. Lady Dís motioned for the young maidens to place the trunk on the rug before the blazing fire, dismissing them with a hardly perceptible nudge of her chin afterwards. Edúr stepped aside to let them pass, not used to the submissive down cast eyes of the two servants as it had been very different in her Keep, though they left the room with shoulders straightened and not hunched, a sign of the unmistakable pride they took in their work, something that all Dwarves in Erebor seemed to possess.

"Please, _ijnid_. " The Dwarrowdam invited her with a casual wave of her hand in the direction of the trunk. Edúr somewhat hesitantly edged closer to it, reaching out for the lock and using both her hands to lift the lid. An explosion of colors burst forth and at first glance she was overwhelmed by the sheer variety of fabrics all neatly folded and stacked into the trunk. Robbed of words she simply let her fingers give in to the temptation and let them rove over the different textures in awe. There were dresses of smooth velvet and dazzling organza with black lace subtly adorning hems, cuffs and collars, as well as one or two felt mantles that were itchy yet pleasing to the touch. Tenderly lifting them up and enjoying the somehow cooling sensation of perusing nightgowns made of shimmering satin, Edúr found two pairs of shoes at the bottom, practical yet graceful. Fingering the laces and tracing the elaborate patterns stitched onto the leather her eyes were drawn to a shawl half hidden between the many dresses. She carefully pulled it out, reveling in the soft touch as her hands caressed the finest Goats wool she had ever seen.

Entranced by the exquisite finery she only noticed Lady Dis had come closer when she knelt down beside her, earrings _tinkling_ and her own damask robe draped around her knees in flowing folds and subtle creases.

" _This_ ," She said with a sudden youthful twinkle in her eyes as she reached inside the trunk, "has to be my favorite." She held a heavy-looking garment in her hands, lifting it almost reverently to unfold a trim of white fur running around the lapels of a long coat of daisy blue.

The Dwarrowdam hung it over her shoulders, its sleeves falling limply to her sides, the rest of it sprawling all around her and fanning out over the marble floor on which she sat like a waterfall of amazonite-colored serge.

"My brother told me you had been very close to catching cold on the ice. I daresay this coat will guard you against it far better than his rough embrace ever could."

Edúr had to exert some power of will to refrain her eyes from widening and her jaw from dropping at her words. Cheeks burning with what could be nothing more than self-conscious embarrassment she forced her unwilling voice out of her throat, "You were there?"

To her relief Lady Dís shook her head, "No, I was not. Balin kindly filled in the details of what happened. Details which my brother had willfully left out. Sometimes I suspect he is being terse on purpose to tease me." She briefly narrowed her eyes in mock annoyance before going on, "That being said, his observation was correct of course. It usually is, no matter how much that may aggravate me at times. Though it is somewhat ironic how, more than once, he has accused me that nothing escapes my inquisitive notice but I assure you he often has the keener eyes. And yet, I am sure his scrutinizing surveillance has never before extended to Dwarrowdam fashion." She chuckled to herself, a light and rich sound that came somewhat jarringly from her lungs as if it had not traveled so freely and heartily to pass her lips for a long time. Edúr herself could not repress a smile to curve the corners of her mouth upon hearing it and she crossed her chest with one arm so her hand could grasp the warm cloak on her shoulders, fingers spreading through the downy white fur. That movement alone send a tingling up her spine as she recalled a similar sensation the lining on the King's coat had given her.

Unaware of her thoughts having remained on that moment on the ice Lady Dís next to her stirred, her laugh gradually stilled as she grew more serious again when she eyed her fingers lazily clenching an unclenching the smooth fabric in genuine appreciation.

"I must confess I had been worried about your wardrobe not nearly being adequate to cope with the winter. Forgive me for being remiss in not realizing this and failing to see to your needs earlier. I had assumed the clothes that I had no immediate need of would be a temporary solution but I see now they were not sufficient."

Edúr froze, feeling all the more guilty again for the state of her dress. Had she known it belonged to the Royal Dwarrowdam next to her she would not have dreamed of wearing it or any of the other dresses in her room, and she would most definitely not have exposed it to the dust, sooth and dirt that still reigned the South Wing. Not daring to look in her companion's direction -though her tone had born no trace of accusation- she stared instead at the dresses and fine clothing that spilled out of the trunk in front of them. The sight at once enthralled and sobered her up as she realized fully for the first time since opening it that the Lady Dís intended all of it as gifts. Pride stirred in protest, making her feel it would be impossible to accept such charity and fueled her self-reproach for having worn clothes that had not just belonged to any noble Dwarf but to the King's Sister of all Dwarrowdams. She knew Niam had accepted whatever Bofur, Balin, Nori and the others had offered him, the odd collection of breeches and trousers, tabards, tunics, and shirts fitting him as if he had been wearing them for years. Just like she also knew she should not feel this opposed to Lady Dís' evident kindness. She really ought to feel grateful, after all, it was not like she had ever owned a lot of clothes in her life, let alone of this quality.

"You need not worry about these having been worn by someone else, who either cast them aside or sacrificed them on your behalf. I had our best drapers make all of these clothes, they are yours, and yours alone." Lady Dís explained in what she no doubt intended to sound reassuring now she must have spotted her inner conflict.

"I am sorry that you went to all this trouble. There was no need. Especially at a time like this when clothing as magnificent as these can hardly be a priority." Edúr started, feeling increasingly uncomfortable within the coat resting on her shoulders, "I am grateful to you My Lady.. But.. But I fear they will not suit me. Or rather I will not suit them."

She shook off the garment so that it fell around her feet as she slowly rose. Lady Dís remained silent for a while, picking up the coat and stretching her knees to stand next to her. She draped it over her arm, hands stroking it gingerly as she turned towards her.

"Your modesty does you credit, Lady Edúr, but there really is no need for it. This was once the very center of thriving draperies and sewing houses renowned for their skill and produce. I am not the only one who hopes we might restore that worthy trade one day. It gives me pride that our seamstresses have lost none of their talent. Truly, it would be an honor if you would wear the fruit of their labor in return. To remind all of us of what was once part of Erebor's fame and spread hope that it will be so again is a reward that bears no price."

The Dwarrowdam's undeniable dexterity in applying diplomatic persuasiveness left Edúr with little choice but to give in and grant her the request she had cleverly turned her gifts into. Even more so now it seemed the only option when the appreciation and gratitude she did feel apparently hinged on her acceptance of them.

"I still feel this is more than I deserve," She eventually conceded, conscious prompting her to be truthful, "but I do thank you for such considerate gifts. In all honesty I had not expected such kindness to ever befall me, it is almost too much.."

"Not at all. I am glad to have been of service." Lady Dís smiled and there was something triumphant in that subtle movement, "Although, obviously, I had not anticipated you might be in need of more.. Well, more _practical_ attire. I will make sure Bifur sends you appropriate work clothes, I do not expect him to value the beauty of a well made dress as you or I, but he will heed my order if he knows what is good for him."

"I do not doubt it." Edúr agreed with a grin as she imagined the Dwarf's stoic reaction to that particular command. If Lady Dís would be able to track him down that was, for he had vanished without a trace in mere seconds at the sight of her. She gratefully took the coat now it was offered to her a second time, wrapping her arms around the incredibly soft material. She swallowed down a lump in her throat then looked the Dwarrowdam in the eye, thanking her solemnly in Khuzdul, " _Akhmunruk astî, khajjam-zi raklâ dê_."

Lady Dís smiled but shook her head at the same time, " _Ma akhmini e_. _Hîr bina'râkh_." She replied, denying the need for gratitude as she dipped her chin briefly and turned to go, saying seemingly satisfied in the same graceful movement, "Good, it is settled then. Needless to say I hope to see you at dinner, and if not tonight than tomorrow. It would be a waste to wear these dresses and yet have no one to admire you in them."

Lady Dís gave her one last wink reminiscent of Balin's kindhearted ones, a gleeful spark lighting up her deep gray eyes, before she swept out of the room in a flurry of damask and swaying jewelry. Edúr remained silently behind, those last words like an unpleasant ringing in her ears as her fingers dug into the new coat. She pressed it even tighter to her chest from which her wildly beating heart seemed ready to burst free at the mere thought of a certain Dwarf's admiring stare.

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The papers on his littered desk fluttered in the gust of a cold wind that forced the shutter in front of one of the windows to fly wide open. Thorin got to his feet, placing the sculpted stone made out of black melanite on the pile of documents now the wind seemed eager to spread them through his study. He meandered towards the shutter, rattling violently in its hinges. It felt good to stretch his limbs after having sat in behind his desk for what felt like hours. The chilly yet refreshing air wafting in revived him even more. He cast a longing look outside, eyes wandering over the snow covered landscape that was bathing in the light of a pale sun. As a Dwarf he might favor the dim halls within the Mountain, but this did not mean he could not appreciate the marvelous sight rolling out below him. Straight ahead the city of New Dale rose like an uneven mount from the ground, red-roofed buildings reflecting the rays overhead and smoke curling up from a myriad of crooked chimneys. To the right the rugged outlines of _Bâha-zunsh-hund_ made his heart clench in grief still too fresh and he instantly averted his gaze as if it had burned his eyes.

A deep frown creasing his forehead, Thorin closed the shutter with more force than was necessary, making sure it was properly bolted against the wind this time. He glanced back over his shoulder at the pile of work waiting for him on his desk. Had his thoughts been completely absorbed into sifting through all of the reports, plans and contracts, now they were equally occupied if not more by the sad memories of the day that his Sister-sons fell. He should not have gotten out of that chair and looked through the window for he should have known what he would see.

There was a knock on the door, two purposeful percussive sounds he gladly latched onto for distraction, regardless of who it was that had come. "Enter." He called out sternly, turning around to face his visitor. A familiar Dwarf stepped inside, hands stroking his brownish-red beard and holding it in place as he bowed deeply.

"Gloín. What can I do for you?" Thorin asked him, voice betraying a hint of exasperation now he had a feeling he already knew the reason.

"Oh, nothing of consequence, my Liege," The Dwarf started, patting his belly and smiling evasively. _The more formal the title, the bigger the request_ , Thorin thought to himself, mouth twisting in a derisive sneer, _especially with his Master of Coins_. He turned his back on him in an impossible attempt to crush the familiar chill that already ran down his spine. With his guard lowered because of having looked upon the place where his nephews perished, no matter how remote, he dreaded not having the strength to cope with that other, very different emotion now bubbling to the surface.

"Well, that is, I deemed the time right to once again inquire if you had given my proposition any thought. Your Majesty?" Gloín skillfully probed, having taken his grumpy silence as a sign for him to speak. Thorin walked over to his desk, motioning with a brusque wave of his hand for him to continue. He could hear Gloín clear his throat importantly as he waited for him to round his desk though he did not sit down and instead placed his hands on it for support. When it became clear to him he would not lift his eyes to meet his own the Dwarf simply plunged on, "As your Highness knows, at the moment most transactions are made on credit to promote trade and facilitate investment should there be a lack of present funds. But as we agreed this was only to be a temporary solution. A mere incentive, if it were, to start up businesses new and old alike. Now this has been successfully done the Council and myself," He harrumphed with unmistakable pride, nostrils widening and chest inflating, "feel the moment is nearing that we may proceed to expand the role of the Treasury."

"I see." Thorin tilted his head to the side, still not looking at him directly now his stomach clenched in anticipation of Gloín's next words.

"However, as per your Royal Decree the Halls of Thror are still out of bound."

"They are." He affirmed coldly, teeth grinding and his nails set in the grooves running over his desk.

"Undoubtedly your Highness must be aware of how this hampers our merchants, hinders the very growth of our wealth?" Gloín tried cautiously, fumbling with the iron rings in his long beard.

"I am." Was all Thorin replied in return, wanting to steer the conversation and most of all his mind away from that dark and fierce desire that threatened to take over his heart. He pushed himself off of the desk, starting to pace in front of Gloín who had to crane his stubby neck one way then the other to keep him in his line of vision. He took a few determined steps forward, his voice acquiring an almost overbearing tone, "As your Master of Coin I feel it my duty to point out we might manage another moon or two in this fashion, but no more. Then, at the latest, we do need our currency to flow or trade will stall and wither. I would ask you now as I have done before to allow me access. To let me recount the gold-"

"No..!" Thorin froze, taken aback himself by the vindictive growl that had passed his lips and hating the fact he had actually flinched at that last word. He chanced a quick glance at Gloín, feeling guilty as he perceived the somewhat cowering Dwarf. It was wrong of him to blame his Master of Coin for his own weakness, even more so seeing he had shown his loyalty by joining him and the others on the quest to reclaim Erebor.

He let out a sigh, forcing the memory of that seemingly endless sea of gold to the back of his mind, "I understand your position, Gloín. But you must understand that the treasure hoard of Thror is my inheritance. It is Erebor's inheritance and the foundation of our future prosperity. I simply do not wish to make any hasty decisions, risk possibly our only means of rebuilding this Kingdom. That is all."

"Of course. I merely wished to confirm that your Majesty agrees and-"

Thorin nodded impatiently and raised his hand, causing the Dwarf to awkwardly stop mid-sentence, "The Halls of Thror will be open to you, I give you my word." He promised him, trying to ignore the unpleasant jolt that went through him as he vividly remembered the last time he had said those words and how the hunger for gold had made him change his mind. Had changed his heart in which it still festered..

A similar memory flashed across Gloín's face it seemed, and he swallowed before asking tensely, "When?"

"Soon."

"How soon?"

He did not much care for the obvious distrust but could once again not blame the Dwarf in front of him, "Soon enough."

Thorin was aware that he had told him this more times than he cared to remember, and he could tell Gloín was not entirely satisfied with that answer. Nevertheless, he had to give him credit for at least trying to conceal his look of displeasure. Recognizing his curt answer for the dismissal that it was the Dwarf shuffled somewhat uneasily on his feet then bowed and left. Thorin stared at the ground, the urge to confront his fears having grown stronger yet again. It was aggravating to realize to what degree his sickness affected him. _For what else could he call it_? It was beyond a mere flaw that he could hope to remedy by ignoring that seed of corruption within him. _Maybe he was too much like his grandfather after all_?

Of a mind to go down to the Treasury, to face down that internal opponent and be done with it once and for all, Thorin practically stomped out of his office. He did not get very far. He was barely two levels down when he reached the stairs leading up to the South Wing. Looking beyond the two Guards another, wholly different desire took a hold of him. With equal zeal he set off towards his new destination, not bothering to fathom his change of course. He had not lied to his Master of Coin. He would soon have to confront himself with the most seductive of Erebor's riches. And he would be ready. _He had to be_.

Thorin was once again amazed at how quickly the Stone Carvers had managed to repair the stairs leading up to the level housing the nobility's living quarters. The missing chunks had been filled with new stone and you had to look hard in order to see the miniscule fissures that gave them away. Moreover, the boulder blocking the way forward had been removed, and the gap had been skillfully mended as well. As he made his way through the maze of corridors the bustle of Dwarves diligently working instantly filled him with pride. Eying the excellent craftsmanship around him almost made him envy them their practical work. Most of the time he was either required to lead the meetings with his Council as they drafted up laws and discussed plans, or he was coursing through the Mountain with Balin at his side to inspect all of the progress made on the repairs. And as for his other duties..

He was not sure what he detested more, the formal dinners he occasionally had to attend with the Nobles residing once more within Erebor -Dís had already accused him of being negligent in this regard for some Lords and Ladies had started to mutter complaints about his frequent absence- or the countless hours he spent in his study in solitary confinement, wrestling with the many documents he had to read and sign as well as his brooding thoughts which he fell prey too more often than he cared to admit. At times he strangely enough felt a nostalgic longing for the days when he had worked as a Blacksmith in the towns of Men. He may have been driven by a bitter and fierce yearning to retake his Homeland, but he had also relished the hammer in his firm grasp and how with it he had bent and shaped iron a glowing red to his will. His hands had created something out of nothing. Now he might be setting the wheels in motion for Erebor to be rebuild but he was not really a part of it. He was not the one holding the chisel or pickaxe. Nor was he out there wielding his sword to protect his people from the threat of foes. He sent others through the Gate to do that for him. Just as he ordered others to use their skills to mold the ancient Keep back into its former glory. And although as King this was as it should be, there was something lacking. Something he could not quite put his finger on but it was always there like a prickly thorn prodding in his chest now and then.

There was a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. Next moment he recognized the hunched form and rather nervous stutter of the Dwarf he had almost passed without noticing, "Y-Your Majesty."

"Ori. I did not see you there. How is your work going?" He inquired, before casting a glance over his shoulders when he heard footsteps behind him. Ori stammered an incoherent reply and even though he nodded in his direction he had not caught a word he had said. Bifur and the Lady Edúr had appeared in the corridor and came towards them, the former making his usual, somewhat spasmodic gestures and the latter so engrossed by translating her companion's movements as she walked that he was surprised she did not bump into anybody on the way. The moment Bifur spotted him a part of Thorin wished he had not. Alerted to his presence he could see Lady Edúr's eyes briefly widen at the sight of him before she quickly lowered her gaze as they neared. A smile had inadvertently curved his lips upon seeing her but now that she had looked away and he had been unable to read the expression on her face he felt foolish for not checking the impulse to do so. Determined to not betray his discomfort he focused on his Head of the Stone Carvers Guild who practically slammed his arm across his chest in greeting, his bushy brows furrowed to form one line. The fact that the Dwarf in front of him used mostly _iglishmêk_ and a thickly accented Khuzdul -which sounded like nothing more than grumpy grunts to the untrained ear- as his main means of communication, Thorin missed about half of what it was he reported, eyes constantly straying to the Lady Edúr standing at a short but respectful distance next to Ori. He could not remember ever having seen a Dwarrow maiden wearing breeches and a simple blouse instead of a dress.

She was slender -though not skinny like the young Dwarf at her side- so her white shirt ballooned around her arms and sagged at her shoulders while her trousers had clung together in folds because her legs left ample room for it. The brown, rippled fabric was tucked for the most part in plain working boots he was pretty sure Ori had lent her. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion, no doubt she had been as busy as the stone carvers. He tried not to observe her quite as much as he did while Bifur talked on and he could see Ori timidly fidgeting with the pencil in his hand, but now that he had the chance he wanted to make sure he had done the right thing in granting her this request.

He had been on the verge of seizing a momentary pause in Bifur's report to ask her if the workload was not too heavy when, looking back in her direction from the Dwarf's fist punching the air while his other hand clasped his elbow, he was just in time to catch her civil curtsey as she left with Ori following after a clumsy bow. Thorin could not help but stare after her, annoyance shooting through him as he thought he could perceive a certain haste in her movements. _Was it to get away from him_?

Mood turning sour he thanked Bifur with a terse dip of his chin and whisked around to storm off in the opposite direction. Maybe he would join the Company for dinner instead of taking it in his study on his own. After all, he had not joined them for a good while. Thorin assured himself it was because he felt reluctant to return to the work that would also await him there. He surely was not that much of a fool to entertain hopes a certain Dwarf maiden might be there tonight and he would perhaps then get the chance to talk to her as he had so miserably failed to do just now. Quickening his pace, his earlier smile briefly returned as he had a sudden hunch on how he might achieve just that.

~Thanks for Reading & I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~

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 **A/N** : Sorry for the lack of interaction between Thorin/Edúr in this chapter, I wanted to have a Dís/Edúr moment instead, hope you guys don't mind ;)

 **Khuzdul translations (whoopsy daisy, seems I really can't help myself throwing some in even though I'm a complete amateur at this stuff… Just bear with me people! ;):**

".., _ijnid._ " = ".., open."

" _Akhmunruk astî, khajjam-zi raklâ dê_." = "I thank you wholeheartedly, your gifts are precious to me."

" _Ma akhmini e_. _Hîr bina'râkh_." = "Do not thank me. There is no need."

 _Bâha-zunsh-hund_ = Ravenhill

.. _iglishmêk.._ = Dwarven Sign Language

 _All the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N : (August 9** **th** **2016):** **Howdy! (…is it just me or are my greetings to you lovely readers getting weirder ;P) Just wanted to give a big thanks to those who reviewed, faved and are now following this story! :D**

 _Lalaithiel: Thank you for the hundred thumbs up! :D I'm glad you think Thorin and Edúr would be good together and that you like the slow-build romance between them, I'll do my best to carve out their individual personalities more as the story progresses and have them grow closer despite the hardships they're facing and will face in the future! Thanks for the review!_

 _Robinbird79: Dís is an interesting but also a tricky character to write, I want her to be strong (I mean with all the things that happened in her life you'd have to be) and yet also empathic/sensitive instead of hardened/cold/distanced etc. Anyways, I'm glad you liked the interaction between her and Edúr, they'll grow closer as the story progresses, well, that's the plan at least :) And yes, the curse of the gold still has a strong hold on Thorin, like you mentioned in a PM earlier, it's a tricky balance to get right, have him suffer and essentially fight what could turn into full-blown insanity in a believable way without turning him into a raving lunatic ;) Grief for Kili and Fili is another burden he has to bear, so yeah, he's got a lot on his plate (fortunately his physical wounds are all but healed, it'll bother him a bit later on in the story when there's going to be some fighting but then again during the duel with Edúr he seemed to be doing okay, might've had something to do with the fact he was a tad distracted by his opponent at the time ;p, but overall it's not that much of an issue, I guess he's struggling more with the emotional scarring). And I'm totally with you concerning Erebor, absolutely loved the glimpses you get of it in the movies, made me itching to explore it in writing fanfics. Thank you for another great review!_

 _Angie: I'm glad you enjoyed reading about Ori, he's such a cute and likeable character plus I can totally relate to his shy awkwardness hihi :) I wish I could include all of the Company more often but seeing there's quite a lot of Dwarves in it I fear they would take over the story a bit too much maybe (they're a rowdy lot after all ;p) but I am trying to include some of them and have them (hopefully) be more than just an extra passing in the background so your positive feedback in this regard is much appreciated! And there's definitely a fierceness to Dís, she's a character I would like to write a separate story about so I guess having her in this one helps me to experiment with how to portray her, plus I kind of felt it'd be nice for Edúr to have a Dwarrowdam she can talk to and not just have Dwarrows for company (I imagine that would drive me insane at some point ;p) I feel so sorry for Thorin too, seriously breaks my heart in a way to put him through it but I imagine Dragon Sickness to be like a poison that still remains in his blood and as is the case with a fever; it needs to get worse before it gets better! And you're right, Edúr will definitely help him, though I'm not sure she realizes that she's doing it because she loves him, hell, they're both still pretty clueless on that score haha ;) Thanks for your review, hope you'll like this chapter too!_

 _Guest: Thanks for your review, I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story too! :)_

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 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XVI**

SHE stared back at her own reflection, not knowing whether to smile or frown. Even though her own strange mood was not the mirror's fault Edúr nevertheless scowled in its direction before turning her back to it and striding out of her room. It did not signify how she looked for it could not be more embarrassing than having the King see her in her sloppy work attire only a few hours ago. Not that wearing one of the exquisite dresses Dís had given her now was making her feel any less uncomfortable. And yet all of this should not matter for she had never cared much for her appearance. There was no reason to suddenly be so fidgety about it when she would simply be going to an informal dinner with the Company, all of whom she had already met and were not exactly the type of Dwarves that would criticize -or even notice- what clothes she wore. Nor should she feel slightly nervous now Niam would be unable to join her. He had to help out Nori in the forges until late and would simply eat whatever food they could scrounge from the kitchens nearby.

Morkai lazily lifted his head as she patted it briefly before tucking it away again in the fold of his wing, gurgling a muffled caw in goodbye when she headed for the door. Envying the Raven his blissful hours of solitude Edúr stepped out onto the cool hallway, a shout of surprise almost escaping her lungs when there was someone blocking the way forward.

"Ori! I.. W-what are you doing here?" She blurted out, at a loss to account for his presence just in front of their chambers.

"Good evening, My Lady. I am to accompany you to the Dining Hall tonight." He announced with the air of a schoolboy that had learned a lesson by heart. Judging by the happy glint in his light-brown eyes he had done so successfully. Edúr frowned, wondering why he had been given this task. _And by whom_?

"Please, I cannot arrive without you My Lady." Ori added pleadingly, a hint of panic in his voice when she had remained silent. She stored her suspicions to peruse later and hastened to put the young Dwarf's mind at ease, "I was just about to go there on my own but I thank you for the offer and gladly accept it."

They made their way to the Dining Hall and Edúr had to repress a smile when, upon reaching it, Ori hurriedly rushed in front of her to hold the door open for her to pass through. She nodded in appreciation of his gallantry even though the sight of him biting his lower lip and his thin arms trembling because of the weight that pulled on his hands almost made her huff in amusement. As they neared the table Edúr instinctively made for an empty seat at a corner furthest away from its head but Ori nervously cleared his throat to get her attention and, after she threw him a confused look, motioned for her to follow him. To her dismay he walked passed most of the Dwarves towards where the King was sitting, a furtive glance in that direction had her confirm as much. Somewhat absentmindedly nodding in greeting to the others as they waved, smiled or called out to her, she reluctantly followed Ori until he stood still behind his older brother.

Dori apparently felt his sibling's gaze pricking in his back for he glanced over his shoulder and got to his feet so quickly upon seeing her it was as if he had sat down on a hedgehog. He gave her a ceremonious bow and practically sidled his way from between the chairs to offer her his own. Edúr hesitated to accept, it had not escaped her notice how Ori's eyes flitted from her to the King and although the latter had not looked up or shown in any way he was aware of their arrival it almost seemed as if the young Dwarf was waiting for a sign of approval. For a moment longer seemingly unsure of what to do, Ori soon decided he had undoubtedly followed whatever instructions he had received to the letter and shuffled aside to take his own seat now his task had been completed.

The King's continued indifference to her presence at once solved one and yet also created another mystery. Clearly it had been him who had arranged for Ori to accompany her to make sure she attended dinner tonight. _But why_? He had not been inclined to talk to her this afternoon even when she had to admit to herself she had hoped he would. _Surely that would not be any different now_? Especially with the other Dwarves present, who he had known for the greater part of his life, he would not now be in the mood to talk to her. _Would he_? Or maybe the question she should ask herself was: _Was she_?

Realizing it would catch unwanted attention if she remained standing much longer, Edúr returned Dori's broad and somewhat simpering smile with a mirthless quirk of her own mouth before sitting down in the chair he himself had occupied but moments ago. She bristled at herself for her foolish thoughts, after all, with Lord Dáin to her left and placed between her and the King she was certain she would not even get the chance to talk to him, whether she wanted to or not.

Opposite from her Balin was engrossed in conversation with Lady Dís who was seated on the King's left side from his place at the head of the table. Spotting her the Dwarrowdam's eyes slightly squeezed in delight, causing the corners to wrinkle, but before she or the kind old Dwarf she was talking to could say anything Dori next to her coughed a polite _hem_ - _hem_ to get her attention.

"May I say how lovely you look tonight, My Lady."

"Oh.. Erm.. I thank you, Master Dori." She replied awkwardly, stealing a glance at the King but thankfully he still seemed too occupied with listening to Lord Dáin that he would not have heard.

Dori leaned closer, adding in a conspiratorial whisper, "Though it is a shame you did not consult me with regards to any accessories you could have worn with that fine dress. As a jewelry maker I know just the necklace for it." He held his hands in front of him as if the piece he was going to describe to her was draped around them, "A chain of purest silver with a pendant of bright blue tourmaline, its bail inlaid with white, topaz diamonds and its clasp a curved hook, elegant yet strong."

Edúr was not sure what to say now Dori, enamored by his own powers of description, eyed her expectantly though his expression soon morphed into one of apparent disappointment when he could not detect the sparkle of admiration he had expected to find in hers. The fact that now she knew his trade to be jewelry making explained the loftiness of his words and his rather pompous mannerisms that she had noticed when they had met in the Treasury. Harmless enough in his own way it was also a little comical to observe how the Dwarf daintily lifted his miniscule crystal class filled with seemingly but a handful drops of wine, sipped it with a silly slurping sound then turned to her again with renewed zeal.

"Or perhaps a beaded chain with a stone of almandine garnet would appeal more to your taste, My Lady?"

"I am afraid I would care for neither necklace."

"Truly? But that cannot be so.. How very strange.." Dori frowned in unmasked confusion, wine glass momentarily forgotten it hovered an inch from his lips, "B-but.. But why?"

"Petty jealousy, for how could I dare hope to even compete with such glittering luster and brilliant sparkling?" She replied in good humor, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them. Opposite her Lady Dís and Balin had finished their own talk and turned towards them, the Dwarrowdam's lips forming a radiant smile while the white-haired Dwarf hummed his usual warm laugh in appreciation of her remark. Glad she was no longer alone in her conversation with Dori a small sigh escaped her, especially now she feared her neighbor had taken her comment a little too seriously.

"Nonsense, if the jewelry is of good design it would never outshine but rather compliment its wearer. Surely your Clan must have had its own jewelers?" He pressed her, tone earnest and betraying a hint of pitying worry even.

"We did not."

"What? No jewelers? Then what of the precious stones your mines yielded?"

"There were no mines in our Keep. It was hardly grand enough for that." She admitted, trying to keep the sudden gravity she felt upon revisiting that familiar world in the past from her voice, "We simply extracted the ores necessary to craft and forge the weapons and tools we needed in order to survive. I fear we had not the luxury of indulging in fashioning trinkets."

"I am not sure indulgence is the word I would use for my trade. Nor do I engage in the making of _trinkets_." Dori told her in something close to remonstrance, brows raised so high in indignation they all but disappeared under the fine braids that clung in loops to his broad forehead. He breathed in deeply through his nose so his nostrils flared, placing the tiny wine glass on the table and lifting a belittling, stubby finger instead, "Jewelry making is more of an art form, you see. And it takes an artist's eyes and talent to see and sculpt the beauty of diamonds, gems and rubies."

"A beauty best admired when life is not dire, I feel, and therefor I do not wonder nor judge you in that your Keep would have had no need for it." Lady Dís put in, effectively silencing Dori who seemed to shrink back in his chair a little at her words. Then, a somewhat mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes she turned to her and added with a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, "But surely you cannot be wholly immune to the enticing sight of emeralds, pearls and diamonds? No Dwarrowdam is, you know."

"Or Dwarrow." Balin chimed in with a diverted wink.

Edúr smiled back at him before answering in a light tone, "No, I confess I am not, My Lady. There is undeniably an almost unearthly beauty to be found in precious stones. But.."

Curiosity clearly awakened, Lady Dís leaned forward, observing her with interest over the rim of her goblet, "Yes?"

"Do not be afraid to speak your mind lass, you are amongst friends after all." Balin kindly prompted her in his turn when he perceived her hesitation. She shot a quick and what she hoped was an unsuspicious glance in the direction of the head of the table. Once she had assured herself that the King still seemed to have his attention solely bend on whatever his cousin the Lord Dáin was telling him she averted her eyes back to her own hands folded on the gnarled surface and began her story.

"I feel there is nothing that can beat the true beauty of pure stone, unadorned and.. And _unchanged_." Dori practically wrinkled his nose at the very notion while Lady Dís and Balin listened attentively, "I remember my father telling me how one night he discovered a small underground lake in our Keep. And at its center there was a rock jutting out, raised above the surface almost like a pedestal. From a jagged crack in the ceiling moonlight would shine upon it and the stone itself radiated, not glittering like a diamond or sparkling like a ruby, but merely illuminated by its own solid power of endurance. It was not shaped, carved or hewn by Dwarven hands but by the water and time itself with a patience we mortals cannot understand. It might have been but a simple unadorned crescent of gray stone, bathing in the pale rays of a full moon and seemingly offering the gray orb a bed to rest, but it was the most beautiful thing my father had ever beheld."

The silence following her words pricked her ears and she turned her head only to discover that Lord Dáin was no longer speaking, the sudden absence of his slightly lilting and yet rich voice making her heart skip a beat. She thought she could just glimpse the King's misty eyes flitting back to the goblet in front of him, though it might have been her imagination and his thoughts had been far removed from what she had said.

"What was it called? The stone?" Balin asked her seriously, giving in to his instinct as a Scholar to gather all the facts.

" _Id-nulukh azhâru_." Edúr gladly supplied, the words releasing both a nostalgic and sad jolt to go through her. The old Dwarf murmured an intrigued _hmm_ and rubbed his chin in thought while Dori next to her pouted his lips in contemplation of whether or not he approved of that name.

"I wish I could have seen it," Lady Dís admitted, dreamily staring up at the ceiling before directing her eyes to rest on her again, "though your sharing that tale with us makes me feel I somehow did."

Although having remained silent the entire time, Ori momentarily forgot his nervous timidity and nodded fervently in agreement whereas his older Brother still looked torn between looking pleased or insulted by the way the conversation had changed. His inner conflict prompted Edúr to offer some kind of apology now she felt she might have unwittingly put a dent in his pride, "I do confess, master Dori, that my lack of experience with the no doubt fine art of jewelry making makes me ill equipped to have such a strong opinion on it. Which is why I hope you would not take our difference of opinions personal. After all, I might simply not be the right Dwarf you could convince of the merits of your trade. It is not the jewelry that is at fault but the fact I have never taken to wearing the fruits of you honorable labor. No doubt our Keep not having had a mine so splendid as Erebor's nor the flow of precious stones from it is at the bottom of it all."

It was a partly hidden joke and hardly a good one at that, but still, Balin squeezed his eyes in enjoyment at the same time Lord Dáin next to her let out a booming laugh, letting her know that he and the King had indeed abandoned or finished their own conversation to listen to theirs. The nerves that came to life at this realization, seemingly wriggling in the region of her stomach, only grew more restless when she looked at the Dwarrowdam across from her. For some reason Lady Dís wore a quiet smile and was eying her Brother as if attempting to trace something in his expression. It made her reluctant to answer his gaze with her own though she could swear it lingered on her and the impulse to turn towards him was difficult not to obey. A moment later she could feel goosebumps appear on her arms when a laugh she had not heard before mingled with that of the others. It was a low and deep rumbling sound that somehow reminded her of the roar of a distant waterfall, echoes of mirth bouncing of the bare rocks it cascaded passed. She could not stop herself this time from looking in the direction of the King, as if she did not trust her ears to have paired the sound and its source correctly and now employed her eyes to affirm it was really his laugh. The corners of his mouth were pulled upwards to reveal a row of straight teeth and his smile traveled all the way to his eyes, flecks of a watery blue mingling with the lightened gray. It was hard if not nearly impossible to tear her gaze away from his face when Bofur chose that precise moment to join their conversation. With a sense of regret she could not fathom Edúr forced herself to look away, having to try hard afterwards not to strain her ears and listen to the spellbinding sound of the King's fading laughter, almost overcome by the irrational desire for it to grow instead of dwindle into silence again.

"If you have heard of the famed mines of the Lonely Mountain, would you not wish to see it for your own eyes? Your nephew was very impressed. When you look upon the fountain from which all treasure of Erebor pours, maybe then you will understand Dori's passion for _trinkets_." The miner suggested, casually lifting his floppy hat in Dori's direction with what he undoubtedly thought would pass for undisputed support instead of cheeky jest. The jeweler instantly glared at him for his choice of words which to his ears must have sounded nothing short of vulgar but then he hastily morphed his expression into one of compliant neutrality upon catching the King's suddenly stern gaze.

"I am not sure if the mines are the right place for a Lady." He said, looking at Bofur directly despite the fact that he was seemingly making a decision on her behalf. Instantly cured of her previous captivation, Edúr was on the verge of opening her mouth when Lady Dís stirred and cleverly countered for her, "Neither is the South Wing if you consider the state it is in, but you approved of that."

Seated next to his cousin, Bifur grunted something and signed his support of the idea with heartfelt conviction, hands balled to fists than fingers sprawled on the back of his elbow. Bofur chuckled and patted him appreciatively on the back while Balin also argued in her favor, "Aye, very true, Bifur. You are more than welcome to join me and Thorin on our inspection of the mines tomorrow, lass."

"There, even you could not object to that arrangement, Brother. That way you can make sure for yourself no harm will come to her if you feel the place is not safe enough for the Lady Edúr." Dís concluded, a victorious sparkling in her eyes.

The King let out a barely audible growl, shoulders somewhat sagging as he realized his defeat was inevitable, "Very well. Though I doubt she would accept my help-"

"Or need it." Bofur quipped, flashing her a joyful grin and causing her mouth to quirk before she could stop herself. Upon seeing the expression on the King's face darkening instinct compelled her to speak, "Perhaps not, but I would be grateful for it all the same."

The King furrowed his brow and looked at her directly making her wonder whether she could detect surprise or satisfaction that had widened his eyes before he cast them down and solemnly inclined his head.

"You might need to wear something more suitable than your new dresses though." Lady Dís remarked practically, sitting back and taking a lazy sip from her wine.

"Indeed, it would be a waste to ruin that pretty thing." Bofur concurred and for once he and Dori seemed to agree for the Dwarf next to her vigorously nodded his agreement.

"The work attire you wore today would do." The King proposed in a level tone though his apparent indifference on the matter did not seem to convince his Sister. She arched a questioning brow and sat up straight again, eyes cutting from herself to the King, "You saw each other earlier today?"

He merely nodded, no more than a curt dip of his chin, and appeared strangely self-conscious when he reached out for his goblet, then brought it to his lips only to hold it in the air for a few moments before putting it down again without having drunk anything. Puzzled by the unreadable expression on his face, Edúr managed to dodge his Sister's inquiring stare just in time when she turned her attention to her instead. Luckily Balin, undoubtedly sensing the rise in tension, broke the somewhat strained silence by clearing his throat.

"Unscheduled inspection of the South Wing I take it?" He probed, his tone the interesting mix of child-like curiosity and strategic diplomacy.

"Yes," The King conceded, again raising his glass and taking a swift taste of it this time. Edúr felt that same wreathing sensation in her chest that she had felt earlier upon seeing his rare smile. She had half suspected him not to have been aware of her presence that afternoon as he had not talked to her, maybe even mistaking her for a Dwarrow in her breeches and shirt, but this admission proved beyond a doubt that he had.

The King casually put his goblet down, adding in a distinctly lighter tone, "That and I needed a reason to get out of my study, if you must know. I spend too much time there for my taste, it is easy to get out of touch with the reality of rebuilding Erebor when it is all reduced to abstract schematics, endless correspondence and long lists of costs and materials."

"I see." Balin hummed sympathetically, "Well, even as our ruler we could not expect you to bury yourself in paperwork all day for the entirety of your reign."

"Oh, aye, no Dwarf could be destined for so cruel a fate." Bofur chirped, reducing his cousin to a series of hiccup-like snorts, the axe head embedded in his skull wobbling along with his mirth while Dáin slammed his hand on the table, raising his voice to be heard over the tinkle of cutlery that quavered at the impact, "Hear, hear!" He burst out a bear-like laughter before raising his goblet and waving it in the King's direction as if in mock accusation, "Speaking of cruel fates, dearest cousin, what is to become of those poor nobles that hardly see you at their magnificent dinner parties? I daresay all those fine ladies could have left half their wardrobe and all of their pretty things at home for you are never found to admire them!" He roared with laughter, his palm banged on the wooden surface again. Goblets teetered and plates shaking the red-haired Dwarf pointed a warning finger at the King in jest causing the sounds of mirth from the other Dwarves to quieten down in eager anticipation, "If you should spend more time in that den of yours instead of joining our merry gatherings it will not be long ere we forget your face, lad!"

His comment was met with jubilant cheers, whistles and clapping from the rest, the sound effectively melting away any remaining awkwardness that Edúr had felt. The King raised his hand, demanding a silence the others were only too happy to provide him with. Now that he had sat down with them the Company seemed perfectly content with its role as spectators who enjoyed the banter between their leader and his cousin too much to thwart it.

"That you would do anyway seeing I am always buried in work, paper or no." The King retorted, voice adopting a similarly teasing tone as Dáin. Balin shook his head, thumbs hooked behind his belt and hands resting on his round belly, "Oh no, I must protest. If you are to bury yourself let it be in paperwork only."

There was a round of rather raucous 'hear hears' and more clapping, causing Edúr to cover her mouth with her hand now a smile seemed plastered to her face and she could not keep her eyes from straying back to the King, his face devoid of its usual gruff sobriety and gloom. She watched as he briefly threw his head back and released that rumbling laughter from his lungs, the two fine and long braids framing his face swaying against his ears. The movement was really no more than a subtle lifting of his chin but she took it in with an almost burning curiosity before the King tilted his head to the side and looked Balin straight in the eye, "Which you would happily supply." He accused him with feigned annoyance, prompting the old Dwarf to grin knowingly.

"No complaining, Brother, or I might have to take that crown of your head and do the job myself." Lady Dís stated boldly, hands rebelliously on her hips and nose high in the air. Although she wanted to join the others in their merriment Edúr had instantly sobered when she had felt the Dwarrowdam's eyes upon her moments before she had entered the chaff between her Brother and the others. She sincerely hoped she had misread the suspecting glint in them which had been intense enough to make her feel chastised almost, regardless of how ridiculous that sentiment was seeing she had done nothing but stare distractedly at the King. _Just as many of the others had done too_ , she thought to herself in her defense.

"Now there is a thought! Queen Dís, fairest of Dwarrowdams, jewel among jewels... Not sure we could build a throne grand enough!" Dáin exclaimed, chortling excitedly before leaning towards her, his fiery beard prickling against her skin as it brushed her cheek, "Perhaps we should fashion one in mirror image of that _id-nulukh_ _azhâru_ of yours, what do you say, Lady Edúr? Though I fear its simplicity may crumble in comparison with my Cousin's uncanny glamour." Lady Dís dipped her head as if in reverent gratitude for the compliment which only seemed to spur the Lord of the Iron Hills' practiced charm, "And as for your lovely self, I do think Master Dori's suggestions are very misguided indeed. Surely you have no need for any necklace. Why, with those eyes you would outshine the Arkenstone itself!"

Edúr swallowed hard and clasped the back of her elbows, arms protectively wrapped around herself now the temperatures in the Dining Hall seemed to plummet below zero instantly. The sound of laughter drowned in the cold silence and everyone visibly tensed up. Bofur had lowered his head, a shadow passing over his normally blithe face while both Balin and Lady Dís exchanged worried glances before cautiously eying the King in wary anticipation of his reaction. Dáin harrumphed loudly, stirring in his seat which creaked in protest before he once again slammed both hands palms down on the table in front of him, nearly missing his knife and fork in the process and sending chips flying, "Oh, cheer up, lads. It is only a ruddy stone-"

"That will do, Cousin." The King said tersely, an unmistakable tremor in his voice made the command sound like a plea as well.

"Of course." Dáin replied, tone unusually subdued and turning to her, "I meant no offence, dear." He apologized with a kind smile, patting her arm for good measure.

"None taken, My Lord." Edúr hastened to assure him, not able to keep her eyes away from the dark-haired Dwarf next to him. Although she had heard of the jewel that had no equal in the whole Middle Earth, she could not shake the feeling there was more to it than that. Not knowing the precise history -though she could hazard a guess that it must be a painful one judging by everyone's reaction to its mere mention- she felt strangely out of place among the tightly-knit group of Dwarves around her. She had not shared in their adventures, and so it seemed impossible at this moment to share in the sorrow they had met along the way. Moreover, she could not help but wonder if there was something else too that had caused the King's brooding scowl now creasing his forehead. Had he also been defending his Sister from Lord Dáin's earlier flattery? _Had he stopped it because his cousin had extended it to her as well_?

"There you are, My Lady." Dori next to her said courteously, shoving all food-filled bowls within reach towards her, "With all this talk you have not had a moment to eat." He started to busy himself with piling boiled potatoes, grilled sausages and baked tomatoes on her plate. One by one the others followed his example in an almost dejected silence until Bofur suddenly pushed his chair back, planted a boot on it and hopped on the table. Clapping his hands in a steady rhythm he started a song which had everyone soon singing along wholeheartedly, desperate as they seemed not to linger in their shared despondency. It did not take long for the warm atmosphere to be restored and all the Dwarves were eating zestfully or requesting songs from Bofur.

Edúr skewered one of the potatoes on her plate with her fork, not sure if she was in the mood for food. Only moments ago she had no longer envied Morkai and his hours of rest and solitude. Now, even though she did not look forward to the prospect of leaving the Company at the end of the dinner, something inside her had shifted. A surprisingly strong longing for soaking in the growing laughter around her, to be a part of it had taken a hold of her. And yet, she could not deny to herself there was one smile in particular she hoped to glimpse though she feared not only the scrutinizing gaze of his Sister if she did but also Dáin's remark to have dampened his spirits to such a degree he might have tucked it away again under lock and key in his chest now a sad and grim look had taken its place, involuntarily making her heart clench as she watched him.

~Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed & I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~

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 **Khuzdul translations (just the one this time ;):**

" _Id-nulukh azhâru_." = "Home of the Moon."

 _All the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thanks to those who faved/followed! :)**

 _Robinbird79: The part in which Edúr was entranced almost by the sound of Thorin's laugh was surprisingly easy to write, you would almost think I'm in love with that dwarf's dazzling smile too haha ;P Everyone's reaction to the mention of the Arkenstone is mainly because of what happened in the movie, however it'll have a role to play further on in the sequel (and I'm crazy to start thinking about writing that when this story is just half way-ish) and it'll also make a semi-appearance in this story btw which in turn will lead Thorin to make a pretty big decision (and that's all I'm saying 'cause I don't want to spoil the fun ;p). Thanks for the review!_

 _Angie: Haha, yes, I felt kinda guilty for having Dáin say that and ruin the mood there but I felt it was necessary to set the mood for this chapter ;) I'm so pleased you liked that little moment in which Edúr is totally hooked on Thorin's laugh, I guess it's the small things that make people (and dwarves! ;p) fall in love. They'll visit the mines at the end of this chapter though what happens before it casts a bit of a shadow over it… Hope you'll still enjoy it and thank you once again for a wonderful review! :)_

 _DD: Thanks for your lovely review! For some reason I love to write dinner scenes, it's always the perfect opportunity to have other dwarves present and yet it can also be quite revealing in terms of Thorin and Edúr growing closer, after all, they definitely noticed each other even though they didn't talk that much. Anyways, I hope you'll like this chapter too, it's quite different from the previous one though! :)_

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 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XVII**

WITH the sound of talk and laughter still in his ears he was determined to leave the Dining Hall far behind. He had been the first to go and he could have sworn a pair of deep-blue eyes to have followed him as he had pushed back his chair and strode out. Not wanting to raise suspicion with Dís -he feared she had already keenly spotted how his gaze had roved over a certain Dwarrow maiden and how his ears had greedily taken in her solemn yet light voice when she had spoken of her father- he had refrained from glancing over his shoulder at her to ascertain whether his confused mind was playing tricks on him or if he had not imagined her piercing stare. Leave it to his Sister to shower her protege with gifts. To give her dresses she knew full well would be pleasing to the eye -more of the beholder than the wearer perhaps as Lady Edúr's well-hidden bashfulness had not escaped him- and it had not been just himself that had noticed how becoming she had looked in it. The carmine velvet had complimented her amber braids that had acquired a reddish tint as a result, the warmth of both the fabric and her hair painting her eyes an even colder yet dazzling hue of ice water. Thorin grumbled, hands clasped behind his back as he grudgingly admitted to himself that, apart from having been more distracted than he had anticipated, dinner had not exactly gone according to plan.

For one, Ori and Dori had played their part a little too conspicuously when all he had requested of them was to make an effort of accommodating the Lady Edúr during the dinner, above all make certain she attended it. They had executed his order both in word and deed, in fact, they had rather gone above and beyond. He could only hope that Lady Edúr did not suspect his hand in the Dwarves' zealous attempts to make her feel a little more at home in what he knew she still mostly considered a Keep not her own. Even though he tried his hardest not to show her the favoritism that his Sister clearly did, it had been challenging to take in everything his Cousin from the Iron Hills was telling him once she had arrived. _Why was it that he found it so difficult to converse normally with her when he had had no scruples in either arguing about his decisions as King or relating his very personal memories of that disastrous day_? If he could listen to her intently without giving her the impression that he was, then it should really not be harder to talk of more trivial things instead of limiting himself to utter gruff disapproval when he did speak. _Why did he feel he had more to lose if he said the wrong thing to her_? _What even was the wrong thing to say to her_?

And then there had been quite another sensation that had slipped passed his guard. Not only had her sense of humor set his smile free -he could not remember the last time it had burst from him so effortlessly- but Dáin's open admiration towards Lady Edúr had his chest tighten uncomfortably, constricting his breathing as well. With his jaw clenched and shoulders squared he had bit back on the words he had been meaning to utter, and to not allow his cousin, kin as he may be, to discuss so freely her appearance, regardless of whether or not he agreed with the Dwarf's expressive appreciation of it. And yet, despite all of this and his reluctance to let her come to boot, she had not objected to the idea of accompanying him and Balin to the mines when Bofur had persuaded her she had to see them. She had even accepted his protection, needless in her case as it probably was -after all she was not even remotely comparable to the other Dwarrow maidens he had ever come across-, but still it had made his heart throb faster that she had, although he doubted she had acted in consideration of his feelings in the matter and had in all likelihood merely sought to gratify his Sister's.

Lastly, and this by far weighed heaviest on his mind, was Dáin's thoughtless mention of the Arkenstone; _the King's Jewel_. Yearning to be reunited with his most valuable heirloom for so long, he now finally understood it to not be a divine blessing but his bane at best. That was why he had entrusted it to Balin, who had vowed to keep it from him at all costs. He had kept his word and not told him where it was hidden. Even though he regretted the precautions, regretted that he himself did not yet trust his soundness of judgement where that stone was concerned, it was vital that he would not lay his hands on it. _Ever again_. For if he did, he feared what may become of him. _What may become of Erebor_..

Thorin balled his fists and descended the twisting stairs, resolved to go all the way down and finally confront himself with Thror's Hoard of Gold. It did not signify he was driven more by fearful anger than any noble and more altruistic motivation. After all, he could use the bitter sentiment to counter the precious metal's seductive nature. If he did not learn how to be stronger, how to be immune to the corruptive powers of Erebor's treasures.. _Then how else was he going to beat this_?

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The moment he had left she had dropped her gaze to her plate, hardly aware of the conversations flowing on around her anymore. She had tried to eat as much as she could of the food that Dori had piled on it, hoping that she would not appear impolite by leaving more than half of it untouched. Edúr then made her excuses to the other Dwarves as she got to her feet, quietly slipping out of the Dining Hall before anyone could try and persuade her to stay a bit longer. Looking over her shoulder she nodded to Lady Dís who had turned in her seat to bid her goodnight but was glad to have the door finally close behind her. Soon she could no longer hear the snippets of songs and boisterous laughter and she relished her solitary walk through the deserted corridors of Erebor.

She had just turned a corner when she could hear a familiar voice drift towards her from the end of the hallway. Further ahead she recognized Niam and it was not hard to guess who the curly-haired Dwarrow maiden next to him was. Edúr had seen her once before, that day on the ice when her cousin had been quite smitten by her already. He had mentioned her a few times since as it turned out she was a distant relative of Bofur's who was more than a little helpful in throwing them into each other's company. Not that they seemed to need his encouragement this evening. Edúr retraced her steps as soundlessly as she could, she did not want to disturb the budding romance -the way they leisurely ambled through the corridor shoulder to shoulder was indication enough of that- and so taking a detour to their chambers was her only other option. When Niam had told her this morning work would keep him too busy to attend dinner she had already suspected it might have something to do with finishing the tools his pretty companion's father had commissioned. And now it seemed he had taken it on himself to deliver the finished products though she doubted the two were taking the most direct route to their mutual destination. _Then again, no longer was she._.

Edúr halted in front of a forked path she had no recollection of nor did she have the slightest inclination which way would take her to their chambers. She had taken a step towards the one on her left when the far off but unmistakable echo of a wail froze her in her tracks. Straining her ears a second muffled cry made her swivel around and she stared down the winding path to her right. On her guard she took a few careful steps until another heart wrenching sob that bounced of the walls while losing none of its anguish as it reached her, spurred her to move faster. She rushed further down into the bowels of the Mountain, quickening her pace after each time she could hear that same sound of misery grow louder. Whatever -or more likely _whoever_ \- was the source of it she knew she was getting closer, which was a good thing because it had started to pierce through the silence more irregularly and further apart. She practically hurdled herself off the last steps of a steep stairway, breaking what would have been her fall if there had not been a gilded railing to stop her and stumbled upon a figure at the bottom of it. It was almost too dark to make out any other than the shadowy outlines of the Dwarf but shuffling closer she discerned the claw like ridges of a majestic crown, the sight of which robbed her of her breath and ability to move at once. Edúr squinted her eyes, unable to believe what they were seeing. At her feet, huddled against the wall with his thick robe wrapped around him like a cocoon, _was the King_..

When he did not move she hesitantly approached, guided by an instinctive desire to ascertain he was not injured. Before she had neared his crumpled form he suddenly lifted his head which had been buried in his trembling hands. Shoulders hunched he blinked up at her with eyes glazed over and widened as if in fear. He startled as he more fully became aware of her presence and scrambled to raise himself up, hands clutching and nails almost scratching the walls as he did. Edúr crossed the remaining distance between them, reaching out to support him now he swayed on his feet. She placed one hand under his elbow, the other grabbing his robe. Unbalanced as he was there was no way he could carry his own weight, something for which she also lacked sufficient strength. Next moment the King all but slammed into the wall again and the both of them slid down it to end up a heap of tangled limbs on the ground. She hurried to push herself off, causing him to let out a stifled groan. Cheeks burning with both guilt and embarrassment she wrapped her arms around his chest and with her help he pulled himself into a sitting position. Not knowing what to do, let alone what to say, Edúr remained on her knees next to him. She watched with a growing anxiety how he slipped in and out of consciousness, his eyes opening and closing while his head lolled from side to side.

Then, when he let out a soft moan of despair as he finally let his head rest back against the wall, she could no longer refrain from reaching out. Led by an overwhelming impulse to take care of him she stretched her hand towards him until it rested on his forehead that felt clammy. With a cautious stroke she brushed strands of his ink black hair out of his face. At first he shrank back a little from her touch but the hushing sound she made seemed to calm him enough to still his uneasy stirring. She tenderly wiped his moist brows with her sleeve, then cupped his cheeks with her hands, voicing her pressing thoughts in a feeble whisper, "What happened?"

He sluggishly lifted his head to look at her, his own hands enveloping her wrists as if he needed to steady himself and keep his gaze from straying elsewhere, "It was drowning me.. The g-gold.." The King's pupils were dilated, his eyes the color of liquid silver acquired an almost wild look as his fingers grasped her even tighter and he feverishly muttered, "A.. A sea.. A sea of coins.. Rising in angry waves.. It nearly engulfed me...!"

None of it made sense to Edúr, and she roughly pushed aside a knowing suspicion that entered her mind. It could not possibly be that.. _Could it_? Moving on its own accord it seemed her thumb caringly grazed his cheekbone and she forced her voice to sound firm when she spoke, "You are safe now.."

His brows furrowed and he half opened his mouth but no sound came out now he seemed to ponder the meaning of her words, a pained expression on his face, "Where am I... Who are you?" He whispered in a hoarse voice, then a hint of panic in his eyes suddenly washed away as they flooded with an emotion she could not read instead, " _You_.."

She could hear hurried footsteps behind her and a Dwarf clad in a maroon tunic and with a white forked beard rushed upon the scene. "Balin!" She called out to him in intense relief, " _Mahal makhamunmi_.."

"Lady Edúr! Are you alright, lass?" He asked, face taut with concern and eyes cutting back from herself to the King. With a jolt she realized she still held his face in her hands and so she dropped them to her lap as if his skin had suddenly burned hers. Aware of his fingers still half holding on to her wrists Edúr forced herself to talk now Balin had closed the gap between them.

"I do not know what is wrong with him. He was like this when I found him. When I asked him what had happened he mentioned.. He mentioned gold.. Gold and.. And a sea of coins." She did not care that her worry had seeped into her wavering voice, the fact that Balin in his turn visibly tensed up and looked equally if not more troubled did nothing to alleviate that gnawing sensation. He heaved a deep sigh, a cloud passing over his face as he placed his hand on her shoulder and turned his sorrowful eyes to the King who still sat slumped against the wall, "I think we can wager a guess as to where he went. You are smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together."

"The Treasure Halls? Is.. Is it Dragon sickness?" Her heart seemed to throb in her very mouth as she said it.

Balin nodded gravely but before any of them could say anything the King stirred to life and let out a harrowing growl, "I cannot breathe.. Air… I need air.." He released her wrists from his loose grip and clawed at his throat in an attempt to free himself of his suffocating robe. Had it been in the region of her mouth but seconds ago, now her heart hammered painfully against her ribs. She nimbly weaved her hands passed his and hastened to unfasten the clasp that had pressed hard against his collarbones. For a moment he panted in seeming exhaustion as if he had been in a fight, chest heaving up and down, until he let out a long breath and closed his eyes. When the King opened them again Edúr could not fathom the far away sparks kindling in their depth though she had never in her life yearned so much to know a Dwarf's thoughts.. _To look him in the eye, and know his very thoughts_..

* * *

Gold.. As far as the eye could see. A vast ocean of it. And not just gold. _His_ gold. All of the riches that flooded the vaults belonged to him, and him alone. And yet.. It had betrayed him. It had risen against him, slammed against the pillars that upheld Thror's Hall and made the floor tremble. It had threatened to swallow him whole. First this treachery had infuriated him, made his blood boil and had him bare his teeth. Then it had scared him. He, Thorin Oakenshield, a warrior that never ran from a fight, had fled. Had scampered to escape the treasure's wrath. Had been defeated by his own greed. Had lost against that fierce desire to claim every single coin of Thror's Hoard. Had gone down there to beat his own corrupt heart and proven too weak for the challenge. _Had failed._.

It had taken an agonizingly long time before he had come to his senses. Before his befuddled mind cleared and he realized how foolish the thoughts that crowded it had been. He had allowed himself to have been ensnared by a mere illusion. To be trapped by the guile of his inheritance. Still half blinded by the afterimage of mounds of gold glimmering all around him, of the walls which had bathed in its enticing glow he had felt his body slamming into the unforgiving embrace of cold marble before he had seen it. He had hid himself in his robe, shivering when the fever warming his body had suddenly turned his blood to ice instead. Slowly the hallway had come into focus, he half realized cries of despair and agony had escaped his lips and then there had been movement.

It had been so hard to see clearly who the figure was that had dashed down the stairs at the bottom of which he lay in a miserable heap. Thorin had felt soft hands on his forehead as her face swam before his eyes and he had instinctively closed his fingers around slender wrists, not wanting her soothing touch to end. Her voice, comforting and yet demanding at the same time had him obey and answer her question, but as the words left his mouth the hauntingly fresh memories of gold as far as they eye could see faded, lost its power and he could not recall why it had filled him with such dread. It was as if the thick, disorientating mist that had descended upon him had suddenly lifted and his heart had nearly stopped beating when he at last recognized the blue eyes, clear as crystal, set in a pale, serene face which was framed by long, wavy amber-colored hair.

A feeling of relief instantly mingled with apprehension, muddling the hopeful sensation with a wary sense of shame. Before he could say anything to her she seemed distracted by a strangely tapping sounds that dully echoed in his head until he finally recognized he was hearing the distorted version of footsteps approaching. Next moment, another Dwarf joined them and he fought hard to keep his heavy eyelids open so he could put a name to the aged face of his friend. It proved a struggle to keep his mind from losing its clarity and while he could hear Balin and the Lady Edúr exchange words in low, hushed tones he needed all his willpower to wander that thin line, on one side of which unconsciousness awaited and on the other regained control over his faculties. He had been close to tipping that precarious balance in his favor and, as he became more aware of his pathetic state, his throat felt constricted, barely letting him breathe in air. Acting on impulse he had called out and someone released him from the heavy burden his robe had become. The gratitude he felt was quickly replaced by that same sense of humiliation again.

He refused help when he forced himself off of the floor, frustration building now his body was still slow to respond. It did not help that his mind was still sluggish and an inexplicable exhaustion washed over him, making him stagger on the spot. He grudgingly accepted Balin's assistance as the old Dwarf threw him a concerned look, then slung his arm over his own shoulder at the same time instructing Lady Edúr to grab a torch off the wall and light the way. She hastened to obey and when she returned to his side the flickering light of the flames made her bright eyes shimmer as she fixed them on him. Pride stung as he thought he could detect compassion in their blue depths Thorin balled his fists, muttering through gritted teeth in a stubborn defiance he loathed but latched on to nonetheless, " _Ma a'râkh madar-zu.._."

She visibly tensed up, releasing no small amount of regret in him, but she did not retaliate as he had half expected her, _wanted_ her to do even, for surely he deserved nothing more than her scorn, perhaps more so for his current weakness than his biting words. Taking a step closer she cast her eyes down, seemingly hesitant of uttering the words on her tongue but eventually speaking them in a calm, sorrowful voice, " _Ni aznân-zu_ , _madar binsalb_." She cast a glance at the torch in her hands, adding somewhat demurely, "But I can be your light. For now. If you would allow it.."

Catching her eyes he swallowed hard then solemnly nodded his permission, holding her back a moment longer afterwards, "You will not tell anyone?"

The ghost of a smile played across her face though she responded earnestly before turning to go, "You need not ask me that."

Thorin straightened his back and took a few faltering steps forward, refusing to lean too much on Balin's loyal support as he followed the dancing flames Lady Edúr held on to, casting the back of her head in a dazzling radiance of amber which he could not help but be mesmerized by. It drew him closer like a moth would be lured to a candle, yet he did not know nor cared to consider what would happen if he ventured too close..

* * *

At the end of the cavernous gallery that held the forges awaited a gaping hole so deep it swallowed all the Dwarves that whizzed ever down on legless chairs, wheezing an creaking passed hanging from ropes attached to old but trustworthy pulleys which squeaked with their strenuous task. Out of the blackness came the incessant hammering and ticking sounds of pickaxes and chisels chipping away at the heart of the Mountain. There were strings of lanterns dangling languidly in long rows like tears of light twinkling wistfully and cascading over the edge of the narrow ledge resembling a peculiar waterfall seemingly frozen in time.

Edúr inadvertently gasped as she peered into the deep shaft below. It was impossible not to be in awe of the impressive sight. Never before in her life had she seen anything like it. The mines of Erebor were an elaborate system of intersecting tunnels, most of which led to well-like structures the result of centuries of delving. These shafts glistened with gems, diamonds and other precious stones, enriched with clusters of red rubies, indigo sapphire and green emeralds, making it seem as if it was the birthplace of rainbows with all those colors splashed on dull, gray rock.

The broad passageways they entered seemed to have been left behind by some large burrowing creature that had disappeared from the world a long time ago, now they functioned as the arteries through which rusty mine carts travelled over an extensive network of rails. Like the carts there were also those that hung from a web of ropes, spurred into continuous motion by some unseen machination. Both were laden with precious stones and transported out of the mines where they would be sorted so that the right hands would further hew, cut, polish and shape them.

Edúr kept close to Bofur, the idea of all those tunnels running on for miles under the city, with no visible end or if they had they were constantly curving out of sight, was somehow unsettling enough that she had gladly looped her arm through his elbow when he had chivalrously offered her the support. It was irrational of her to feel she needed the miner's guidance but she imagined it would be a horrible place to get lost in, not to mention with the risk of cave-ins, that it had a chill run down her spine.

Not aware of her childish fears Bofur had a story to tell or an explanation to offer for nearly everything or everyone they encountered but this did not slow them down. Moreover, following in their wake were Balin and the King who were proceeding at a similar pace with their inspection. Now and then she chanced a look over her shoulder but, although Balin gave her an encouraging sort of wink when their eyes met, the King did not even once look in her direction but was always busy talking to a miner or examining one of the many papers he and his Councilor had brought with them.

When Bofur announced they would soon return to their point of origin, Edúr had to take his word for it. She had lost her sense of direction some time ago in one of the dark tunnels, though the fact that she caught herself on more than one occasion straining her ears to take in the captivating baritone voice of the King behind her must be partly to blame for this as well.

"So, how did you like the tour, My Lady?" Bofur asked, making her head snap back to face him, "I hope it wasn't too long-winded for you?"

She shook her head in staunch denial, hoping he would not notice the blush she felt spreading over her cheeks seeing as her eyes had been seemingly glued to another Dwarf and she had not even noticed they were back at the entrance, "N-no.. That is, the tunnels were rather but your stories not in the least. Thank you, Master Bofur."

"At your service!" He tipped his hat at her and made a twirly bow, "Now, I'll best be off then, the hunt for jewels is without end." He quipped joyfully, adding in an afterthought, "Oh, I'll ask Balin to take you back up."

"What? Oh, no.. There is no need-" She broke off her attempt to stop him when the miner merely grinned at her and set a course for the old, white-haired Dwarf who was engrossed in studying what appeared to be a very old map, peering over the edge of it into the gaping shaft starting at his feet now and then. Frowning, Edúr searched for his companion who was suddenly nowhere to be seen until she caught movement in the corner of her eye. Swiveling around, effectively having turned around her axis, she found the King to be closer than she had thought him to be. He was running a hand over the silver seams which snaked through the stone like a river, apparently lost in thought. Setting aside her hesitations she took a step towards him.

"Are you well?" She asked, not knowing whether he would be at all inclined to answer merely to satisfy her worrying curiosity, but she could not help but vividly remember what had happened last night. When he appeared not to have heard her she took yet another step in his direction, softly calling out to him this time, "Your Majesty?"

His fingers froze in their movement of tracing the strands of silver and he turned towards her, gray eyes narrowed and yet unwavering. With a jolt she realized it was the first time she had addressed him with his title. Judging by the intense look he gave her he must have too.

"Call me Thorin.." He said, voice a low rumbling sound that grated his throat and send a powerful tingle up her spine. The King's hand slid from the stonewall as he reduced the distance between them causing her to instinctively take one back under his piercing gaze.

"I cannot-" Edúr had started to protest but he silenced her before she could finish her sentence, adding pleadingly but with unmistakable pride, " _Please_."

She inwardly cursed her own body for once again plaguing her with a tingling sensation to stir in the pit of her stomach this time upon picking up on the tremor that one word possessed. "Only if you would call me Edúr and nothing more than that. I am not so vain to hold on to a title that has meant little to me while the King would be willing to forfeit his own when I have just remembered to use it."

His deep, and short laugh was multiplied tenfold as it bounced of the surrounding rock in fading echoes until it was smothered by the shaft's sheer depth, "Agreed."

Balin appeared on his side, humming happily to himself for no apparent reason other than that she assumed the inspection had gone well. When she could not spot Bofur anywhere near, however, the suspicion grew that he had perhaps been close enough to have overheard their brief exchange.

"Ready when you are, My Lady." He announced in his usual friendly way.

"Thank you, Master Balin, I appreciate your taking the time to escort me back. Perhaps I should make up for my terrible sense of direction and acquire one of your detailed maps, if only to be of less trouble to you."

"No trouble at all, I assure you, Lady Edúr. Between you and me, these old legs need stretching and the more the better. So, you see, I should really thank you instead for providing me with the opportunity to stay healthy longer." He waved away her apology, afterwards extending his arm in a gesture to set off together. She just held back on the impulse to curtsey, fearing it would look ridiculous in her work clothes, and instead dipped her chin respectfully to within an inch of her chest in the direction of the King- At _Thorin_..

He returned it with a solemn bow, the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. She then fell into step next to Balin as they started on their rather long way back to her and Niam's chambers near the top of the city. Once they had stepped into the long gallery lined by the forges -which cast it into a warm, red glow- she glanced back one last time, eyes locking on to a solitary figure who stood unmoving at the exact same spot before slowly turning around and heading back into the mines where he was soon eaten up by the many shadows that claimed dominion over the core of the Mountain.

~Thanks for Reading & I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~

* * *

 **Khuzdul translations:**

" _Mahal makhamunmi_.." = "Let Mahal be thanked.."

" _Ma a'râkh madar-zu.._." = "I do not need your pity..."

" _Ni aznân-zu_ , _madar binsalb_." = "In your darkness, pity is useless."

 _All the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_

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 **A/N:** **Ok, so I'm going to be away on a trip for a couple of weeks, though I can't imagine not doing a bit of writing along the way and I'll post a new chapter the moment I get back, promise! Until then stay tuned! :D**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Thanks to those who faved/followed, it's such an amazing feeling that people like this story enough to want to do this, seriously there's no ego-boost quite like it haha ;)**

 _Angie: I know how you feel! Seriously it's hard to write how the Dragonsickness is affecting Thorin but he's fighting it with everything he's got and Edúr will play a role in the whole process for sure ;D I'm not sure why but something about calling each other by their first names seems like a big step forward to me, especially seeing that Dwarves are so secretive when it comes to those. And Balin is happy because he has spotted what is going on between Thorin/Edúr long before they themselves will figure it out ;) Thanks for the review, Angie, and also for being so sweet in wishing me a good trip! :D_

 _Robinbird79: So I planned way before hand how the Dragonsickness was going to play out and how it would affect Thorin but it's so tricky to actually write it, I don't want to overdo it but then it should be clear he's wrestling with something big and heavy and cunning too, and as much as I feel sorry for him you're absolutely right that Edúr needs to see what it's doing to him or else she could never hope to help him to beat it. Gee, I wonder what motivates her to want to help him with every fiber of her being.. Could it possibly be love? ;p Thanks for the review! I plan to get back to reading your story asap and returning the favor!_

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 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XVIII**

ALMOST the entire table was covered with cards of pressed parchment, the ink on them glistening a muddy black. They were laid out in neat rows, leaving barely anything of the wooden surface visible. Thorin walked around the octagonal shaped table, eyes wandering over the many invitations. He picked one up to examine it more closely, an uncomfortable spike of nerves blocked his throat, almost taking his breath away. The card fell from his hand, tumbling down like a leaf, and the moment it landed amongst the others the slight rustle was enough for the diligent scratching of a quill to cease. Brushing a wayward braid of white-gray behind her ear, Dís looked up from the card she had been writing on.

"Is this really necessary?"

"You know it is, Brother. It is tradition to invite the Nobles as well as the Heads of Guilds personally. And then there are Erebor's lesser Clans to consider, those that have not dispersed or crumbled over time. There are quite a few that have already returned to the Mountain." Dís explained with the air of forced calm.

"And they must all be there.." Thorin grumbled back, afterwards abhorring the fact that he might well have sounded like a moody Dwarrowling.

"Yes. They will all attend. More could, in fact, should you change your mind.." His Sister probed, skillfully paving the way for him to be swayed in the end by her and his Councilor's advice.

Still as resolved as he had been since they had talked of this he shook his head fervently, "I will not."

"Brother-"

"I respect your wish to honor tradition," He assured her, hoping to quell her renewing the zealous attempt to persuade him as he walked over to stand at her side, "but on this point I insist to be obeyed. The Coronation will be an internal affair. With the exception of Cousin Dáin it will be Dwarves of Erebor only. I will not extend the invitations and welcome envoys of all Seven Kingdoms when they did not support the Quest. Let them prove their loyalty some other way, and I _will_ expect them to, but not on that day."

Dís stirred, the slightest of movement that betrayed her unrest, before she turned her head to look directly at him, "And your unwillingness to have representatives of the other Royal Families has got nothing to do with lacking that which would unify all Seven Armies..?"

Now it was his turn to shift uneasily. Thorin wrung his hand around the curved ear of her chair until the sound of wood creaking in his tight grip woke him of his brooding thoughts, "No. It has not. That stone means nothing to me now."

"Nor should it." Dís told him solemnly, straightening some of the cards laid out on the table in front of her, more to give her hands something to do than to restore order, "No gem should ever be considered of more worth than those it unites. For there is greater value in all the hard work performed by every single Dwarf for the benefit of this Kingdom. For you."

Thorin clenched his jaw as flashes of his latest confrontation with his own corrupted soul threatened to consume his thoughts, causing an overwhelming guilt to almost paralyze him. _How could he be deserving of the dedication of his people to rebuild Erebor in his current state_? _How could he ever hope to be worthy of it_? He chanced a careful glance at his Sister who had not noticed his silence for her own mind seemed far away. The quill in her hand still hovered an inch above the card but she made no sign of continuing her work.

"What is it?"

His inquiry prompted her to move and he thought he saw her swallow down a lump in her throat, "Nothing.. I.. My thoughts simply wandered.. That and that I hope you do not resent me for openly disagreeing. You are King now, after all, and-"

"No need to apologize, Sister," He hastened to put her at ease, "I have always cherished the challenge you pose me. Perhaps it is good someone does."

"I am glad you take it that way, though it would seem I might have to share that particularly arduous task these days." Dís replied knowingly, her usual quick wit seemingly kindled again.

He creased his brows in an questioning arch, stomach clenching in apprehension, "What do you mean?"

She shrugged then waved the quill nonchalantly in his direction, "Simply that I feel I may no longer be the only Dwarrowdam that has even attempted to tame you."

Thorin cursed his stomach for tightening uncomfortably even more but he refused to acknowledge the sensation to himself let alone betray its presence to his Sister. He huffed and turned away from her, crossing his arms guardedly in front of his chest, "I am afraid I do not follow you, Sister."

"Oh, I think you do." Dís was quick as always to see through his bluff, "But, by all means, deny it if that leaves your pride intact."

"I doubt there is enough of it left to remain intact. You yourself and the Lady you are undoubtedly alluding to have seen to that." Thorin scoffed, bending all of his will to repress a rising panic though he was not sure why he should feel this trapped by his Sister's allusions.

"So you do admit you know who I meant." She surmised smugly, sitting back in her chair, "Good. It will make it easier for me to say this."

Thorin heaved a wary sigh, "Should I dread your next words?"

"No more than usual, dear Brother. But I do feel I cannot remain silent on this topic. It has often been on my mind of late." She told him, tone gradually growing more earnest as she leaned forward again and planted her elbows on the table, "With my Sons.. With my Sons gone," Her voice wavered but she held up her hand to stop him from saying something the moment he had opened his mouth. Thorin had no choice but to respectfully bow his head and remain silent so Dís could resume once she had overcome the emotions bubbling to the surface, "With the line of Durin at risk now we were robbed of our direct descendants.. It falls to you now to prevent it is broken. You must consider what might well be your greatest responsibility, to your forefathers - _our_ forefathers- and to your people. It is time to think of a duty more important than the many you already bear. You know of what I speak."

"It is possible that I might.." He conceded reluctantly, though his evasive answer did little to dissuade his Sister from pursuing her present course.

Seemingly not in the mood for his enigmatic feigning of ignorance Dís continued on gravely, "Now Azog has taken the lives of my children, I pray Mahal will give you your own. New life is the only thing that is stronger than Death, always has been and always will. Producing an heir will not only secure your position as King, it will also strengthen the loyalty of the other Dwarven Kingdoms. _And_ it would contribute to your own happiness-"

"I thank you for not neglecting to take my personal happiness in consideration," Thorin cut her short, mood rapidly turning sour, "but I am content to be on my own, I see no reason not to continue on as I have my entire life."

"But Brother, I know it would make you stronger to have someone at your side, to rule together. I do not presume to choose your wife for you, but you must at least consider marriage." Dís argued, vehemence seeping into her voice.

"You are forgetting that, by your own admission, no Lady might be brave enough to take on that arduous task." He countered, his self-mockery releasing no small amount of unrest and his heart to be pierced with an invisible but not less sharp dagger.

Dís shook her head, clasping her hands together as if to pray to Mahal himself to make her sibling clear his head and see reason, "Not every Dwarrowdam is the same. If you would take the trouble of acquainting yourself with some of them there might be those who possess enough courage."

"You think it a good time to remind me of that? When not a moon past I have dueled with one you and you alone have apparently singled out already. The fact that she surely despises me should tell you enough of my skill with them." He bit out as he swiveled around to face her. Before she could respond, and the defiant spark in her eyes was enough indication of the fact that a retort lay ready on her lips, the door to the Council Chamber which had stood ajar the entire time creaked further open.

"And what duel would this be, dear Cousin?" Dáin queried as he stood on the threshold, the blood-red sure coat he wore clashing violently with his saffron hair.

"One that would not concern you, _dear Cousin_." Thorin answered him gruffly, not willing to share the details of that painful and yet strangely precious memory and rather coolly echoing his last two words on purpose.

"Ah.. Lost it, did ye?" Dáin quipped, mouth quirking so that the white, tusk like moustache bristled.

"I did not lose." He practically hissed back through clenched teeth.

"Did you not now?" His cousin repeated sounding unconvinced, his heavy iron boots clanking with every step he took closer, "Then why the secrecy? Surely you've got nothing to hide from your very own kin?"

"He might not have lost, but he did not win it either if what Balin told me about it is true." Dís finally decided to enlighten him, her manner of speaking unmistakably testy.

"I see.." Thorin was more than a bit irked by Dáin's look of intrigue as he stroked his fiery beard, bushy eyebrows raised in undisguised curiosity, "I do hope I am not interrupting something?" He asked with the appearance of being polite, the coarse and rasping sound of his lilting voice contrasting with the seeming civil tone.

From the corner of his eye Thorin could see that Dís had been on the verge of confirming and no doubt ask for their Cousin's pardon and to leave them again but he would not have it. This was a chance to end his conversation with his Sister, something he felt in need of now he was not sure how much more his temper would endure of it, "You are not." He stated pointedly, throwing Dís a challenging look, "My dearest Sister merely has thought it appropriate to remind me of my duty to wed one of noble birth, thereby provide an heir to the throne."

"Ah..!" Dáin exclaimed, just in time holding in his bark of a laugh upon perceiving Thorin's impressive scowl and patting himself on his beard instead, "Well, you are the King.. And with that come certain.. Expectations."

Sensing that their Cousin might well be on her side, Dís seemingly changed her mind about dismissing him and instead seized the opportunity to continue her siege now she was assured of a new and unexpected ally, "It _is_ your duty, Brother, Do not fool yourself in thinking the Nobles returned for material prosperity only, they are seeking advancement as well. The unwed Ladies amongst them most of all."

Dáin chuckled heartily, "Oh aye, there's some that can be worse than Dragons, especially when coveting for the heart of a King. You deserve fair warning, lad!"

"I doubt they would still covet it if they but knew the darkness that lurked in that heart too." Thorin muttered darkly under his breath, his Cousin's boisterous laugh ensuring the other two did not pick up on his words. Dáin inhaled deeply, filling his lungs after his jovial outlet of mirth at his expense, readying himself for no doubt another witty remark or piece of advice where the courting and eventual marrying of Dwarrowdams was concerned. But Thorin would not listen to it any longer. He refused to remain a part of this discussion to decide the fate of his life. _His_. _And it belonged to no one else_..!

"What is it you wanted with me?" He demanded tersely of his Cousin, forestalling him this way to support Dis' claim over the course his future should run.

"Oh I was merely on my way to the Royal Chambers when I heard your voices-"

"In that case Dís will come with you. We had all but finished our talk when you came in. Do be so kind to keep Cousin Dáin company, Sister, you know how he withers without it.." He ordered her curtly, not meeting her eyes for he could not bear to see the anger ignited in them at the moment. As expected Dís did not appreciate being gruffly commanded to leave and he could hear her irritated huff as she pushed her chair back. Next moment she had stalked off muttering cursus in Khuzdul that had even Dáin, a proficient in his own right, clear his throat awkwardly. He cocked his head, let out a sigh that strangely resembled a wheezing whistle, then made a small bow and left without another word to catch up to the fuming Dwarrowdam.

Thorin resisted the urge to pace the width of the entire room and forced himself to sit down in the chair his Sister had abandoned. He tried desperately to concentrate on the tedious job at hand, hoping it might calm him to write the cards himself as penance for angering Dís when he could just as easily get a Court Scribe to do it. As his hand picked up the quill its fragile shaft let out a strained _crack_ and it snapped in two now he had not been able to contain the excess of force he had used to grasp it. Grumbling Thorin sagged in the chair, kneading his forehead with his knuckles and staring down at the card as thick drops of ink splattered on the pressed parchment, ruining it like rain would a book. Giving in to his bad temper he got to his feet, snatched the card from the table and crumpled it in his fist as he made for the large hearth. He threw it into the fire with an impatient flick of his hand, resting both of them afterwards against the mantelpiece as the wet ink on the card sizzled madly back at him before it shriveled to resemble a black, shrinking piece of coal.

* * *

Pinkish foam swirled lazily around and steam rose from the hot water as a myriad of sweet and floral scents wafted her way. Herbs were floating on the crystalline surface that bubbled from time to time when the glowing coals in the brazier hidden underneath the small pool generated even more heat. Around the edge abraded sandstones were laid to keep the water from spilling and there were even some small tubs with soap and washing towels bobbing on the negligible waves created by a rostered drain now gushing back, then swallowing the clear liquid. It was without exaggeration the most inviting and luxurious bath she had ever seen. And she had it all to herself.

Edúr shed her shirt and breeches, leaving them in an untidy heap at the floor as she carefully tested the water with her toes. Tempted by the enticing warmth sending a pleasant tingling up her spine she soon immersed herself. She held her chin just above the surface of the water, watching the concentric ripples travel away from her with a calming purling sound and let out a long, satisfied breath. It did not take long for her body to relax, for the tension that had gathered in her muscles after another long day charting the South Wing to lessen. Cupping her hands she pooled hot water in the fleshy bowl and brought it to her face, washing off sweat and dust that had been caked on it. Reaching for the nearest tub she reeled it in by curling a finger around its handle then took the bar of soap in hand and rubbed it against her skin. With the repetitive movement came a memory of her grandmother with whom she had always taken her baths and Edúr dutifully performed all of the steps inherit to their bathing ritual, feeling soothed by the intangible presence of that old Dwarrowdam.

Sufficiently laved and cleaned by the warm water, Edúr finally stretched her tired legs and leaned back, head resting on an accommodating sandstone that seemed carved for this very purpose. Vapors of steam still coiled upwards all around her and she watched them thin out and cling to the ceiling like wisps of smoke puffed out of a pipe. The flickering glow of an unadorned, robust looking chandelier consisting of nothing more than dark wood, rusty iron bolts and crooked candles dripping yellowed wax, reflected on the water below to cast moving patches of light on the ceiling, slithering like snakes across the cavernous rock.

There were echoes of voices from other visitors to the Public Bathhouses drifting in, all Dwarrows by the sound of it. The several areas were separated by broad, oak beams stapled on top of each other to keep eyes from seeing but not ears from hearing other bathers. Normally she would use the washing bowl and wooden tub placed in front of the fire in her room but Niam had convinced her to join him on what were rapidly becoming his daily visit to the Bathhouses on one of the lower levels of the city. Truth be told she had never expected it to be such a wholesome indulgence but now that she enjoyed a long soak in the pond-like pool she began to understand why her Cousin was eager to return after a hard day's work.

Her body more at ease and relaxed than it had been for a while she finally allowed her mind to wander back to the tour of the Mines the day before, it had already been running back and forth that particular track the entire time she and Ori had worked in the South Wing. She could not deny the validity of both Dori and Bofur's defense of the sheer beauty of all those precious stones nor had she felt immune to their beguiling nature. Moreover, whether she wanted to or not the King's steadiness and control had impressed her deeply after that very different meeting they had had the evening before last. And as much as his entreaty to forego the use of his title in her addressing him had taken her aback, it had filled her with both a strange longing to obey and grant him the request as well as a cautious reluctance to overstep the mark in the eyes of others who had know him so much longer than she had. His Sister the Lady Dís not least of whom.

When Balin had walked her back to their chambers after Bofur had assigned him the task she was glad when he had been the one to broach the subject of the encounter only he himself, Thorin and she knew of. From what the old Dwarf had told her, for he had felt it his responsibility to confide in her, she understood it had all began with the search of the Arkenstone, lost as it had been within the Treasure Hoard of Thror. The curse lying on it held a particular threat for Durin's Sons, and Thorin it seemed had been no exception. But Balin, despite tears gathering in the corner of his eyes and the desperate balling of his gloved fists, had expressed his fervent hope that the King would recover. The sympathy she felt for the white-haired Dwarf alone had stopped her form gainsaying that conviction. But it had not merely been that. She was only beginning to close the gap between herself and Thorin, a chasm that had been created partially by misunderstanding each other it seemed, but she did not need to know more of him than what she had gathered these past two moons to know that he was strong. In fact she did not think she had ever met a Dwarf that could come close to the strength he seemingly possessed. _But was he strong enough to beat the tenacious spell of the Drake.._? _Or would he inevitably fall victim to it like his Grandfather before him.._?

* * *

The Arena was crowded with warriors, the sounds of axes clamoring against one another and toned down battle cries filling the cavernous space. Some of them were fully armored as they honed their skills positioned in a circle around a stocky and weather-beaten Captain who would bark out commands that had them move simultaneously and in perfect unison from one stance to the next. Others wore but their knee-length trousers as they tried to best their equally robust looking opponents in a wrestling tournament that had seemingly been in full swing since the early hours if the crater like appearances of the fighting rings were any sign. Thorin nodded and called out to some of the warriors now and then in recognition of their efforts as they stood to attention and bowed when he passed them on his way to the very back of the vast training grounds. He tried not to be distracted by remembering the last time he had stood in a fighting ring just like the one he entered now and instead increased his firm grip on his battle axe instead. Dwalin followed his example and stood opposite him, broad but short practice sword in hand and waiting for him to start their sparring match.

Thorin had taken a similar one from the rack near the entrance and impatiently turned it around in his grasp before suddenly tightening it and slashing it through the air. Dwalin neatly caught the edge of the blunted sword with his own which he held vertically in front of his face. He let it slide off, took a few steps back only to lunge at his opponent with more strength behind the movement. With every successive blow easily blocked by the seasoned warrior he put more and more force into his attacks. Again and again Dwalin parried each with ease. Once again Thorin felt deeply grateful for one of his oldest friends' unwavering loyalty. For one it meant he could count on him whenever he needed to vent some pent up frustration in a fighting ring. What was more, their long standing friendship made that he, like his Brother, seemed to be able to read his thoughts or gauge his mood almost as well as Dís could. It was why he knew better than to hold back now even though his King's present agitation all but destroyed his technique and skill. Instead of sparing him, Dwalin tirelessly and without uttering a single complaint bore the brunt of Thorin's relentless slashing, not withholding from punishing his obvious lack of focus with the strong and much more accurate strikes of his own sword.

The one thing he perhaps appreciated the most was Dwalin's taciturn disposition which rarely prompted him to broach a painful subject or badger him with advice, however kindly meant. Being habitually reserved and sparse with words he was also not likely to inquire after the reason for his brooding frown -an almost exact copy of which often creased his own brows- let alone interfere with anything of a personal kind unless it really could not be avoided. In fact, Thorin could remember most if not all of the handful of times that his friend had confronted him openly. The freshest memory of that was when Dwalin had come to him, while the Battle of the Five Armies raging on outside the gates of Erebor, and he had pleaded - _begged_ \- him to not forsake his Cousin beset by enemies from all sides. And he had answered what he had then perceived as spite with nothing but biting scorn and cold hostility.

He would never forget the look of hurt in his trusted friend's eyes. The emotion in his gravelly voice. How at that time, when the curse was pulsating strongest in his entire being, he had threatened to kill his good friend. Had deemed his life and that of all those fighting for him and his kin of inferior value compared to the treasure of his Grandfather. Nor did he feel he could yet deny the truth of those words he had spoken: sitting in vast halls with a crown upon his head, he had been lesser than he ever had been. Deep down Thorin feared he still was. After all, now that he had once more faced the gold, faced it and had been defeated by it, clearly he was still not strong enough to no longer feel that enticing pull towards it. But one thing Dwalin had said to him then no longer rang true. Despite his struggles with that vile Serpent's Spell, for he could see what he had become then. What he could now become again if he did not fight this.

Stamina and frustration making up for his lessened control over his movements and sword, Thorin kept up a somewhat erratic barrage of attacks, not once tricking Dwalin to fall for one of his feints or be hit by his forward thrusts. He was not improving and doomed to present an easy target when, thinking back of that night before yesterday, he could not stop seeing Edúr's horrorstricken face when she found him. Relive that moment in which her fingers had caressed his face, the mere touch of which had send shivers down his spine, shivers that had nothing to do with the fever that had taken over his mind, body and soul. He had barely slept that night as it had taken all of his willpower to push away what happened like it was a bad dream he could not yet face. Nevertheless it was still torture to realize she had been the one to find him. To see him like _that_.

And then he had seen her the very next morning in the mines. It had been incredibly trying to direct all of his attention to what he needed to do for the inspection when most of the time it had been wont to wander to the Dwarrowmaiden walking further ahead and very close to his Head Miner. The sight of their arms interlinked had made his stomach lurch and he had sworn to himself to not cast a single glance in their direction for the duration of the tour. Something he had only half succeeded in when Bofur had left her standing on her own to get Balin and she had approached of her own accord. Hearing her speak his title had sounded so strange to his ears that he had uttered his wish for her to call him by his name instead before he could stop the irrational urge. Although he had yet to hear her say it, and it was beyond him why he should yearn for something so trivial, she had at least agreed to not call him King and he was determined to view that as a start in the direction of fulfilling that particular desire.

Unfortunately he had not seen her at dinner yesterday. Or rather, he had not been present himself though this would have mattered little seeing that Dís had informed him despite his non-existent inquiry that Edúr had not attended either for she had dined with her Cousin in their own rooms. For himself, he had not eaten more than a few morsels of bread, a chunk of cheese and possibly more than one goblet of wine as he had spent most of the day and late into the night in his study. It was a riddle to him why but he had been more than a little behind work, still was truth be told, and what normally took him only a few hours to read, approve and sign -or throw straight into the fire in some cases- had now already taken him the greater part of two days.

When he had finally caught up on his many tasks, there had been his Sister with the invitations, something that had little priority in his mind but seemed so vital to her. And she had apparently also seen fit to seize the Coronation as a chance to remind him of his other, no, of his _greatest_ duty. _One he could never see himself agree to, never mind what Dís' thoughts on the matter were_. _One he was sure was futile to contemplate for what Dwarrow maiden would be tempted_? _Would see beyond his title, beyond the wealth of Erebor, and find it in her heart to_... Thorin grinded his teeth, practically snarling as he sword cleaved once again through the air. He had to convince Dís just how ludicrous the idea of marriage was. The notion was appalling. _Impossible_... _For who would dare love him_..?

Thorin felt his grip loosening and the sword beginning to slip from his hands. His energy was draining fast, it was foolish to continue. It would be better not to, if only because he did not want to fathom his own feelings on the subject any more than he already had come close to doing. There was no point in asking himself why he felt in need of venting out his frustrations in a sparring match with Dwalin after that embarrassing talk. He had merely needed the exercise to clear his head after having been once again locked up in his study. Besides, they knew each others' moves so well, had trained together for so long, that even when his fighting today had been far from flawless, there was also still a part in him that, despite everything, was truly enjoying this match.

After another fruitless attempt to hit him, Dwalin only allowed him just enough time to regain his balance. It was to little avail. The next wide swipe also missed its target by a generous margin. Thorin knew, and had know it from the moment he had stepped into that ring, that he would not even get near enough to provide Dwalin with a challenge in his current agitated state. In one final effort he followed up his last attack with a downward blow. The bald warrior leaped backwards but only to lure him closer for when Thorin took the bait a second before he realized his mistake Dwalin had already ducked forward. Deftly turning his sword in hand so that the tip of it was pointing backwards he rammed its pommel in his stomach. Thorin doubled over, staggering backwards because of the impact and fell to one knee. The sword dropped in the sand as he let it go to clutch at a painful stitch in his side. Next moment he looked up to see Dwalin stretching out a hand towards him. The match was over.

After he had gotten to his feet with the help of Dwalin it took only one meaningful and hard look to convince him it would not be wise to forego the claim of his rightfully earned victory. They clasped each other by the elbow and then the Dwarf opposite him lifted his sword and stretched his arm, raising it high above his head. Highly secretive as Dwarves might be tradition demanded that the outcome of a sparring match would always be unequivocally clear so that everyone could see and acknowledge it. Thorin could see Dwalin had to overcome his stubborn loyalty towards him to accept he had bested his King and it brought a smile to his lips, "Thanks you, _bâha-ê_.."

The other Dwarf responded with a reverent dip of his head then said with a hint of a grin and his usual frankness as his eyes fell on his dirtied and sweaty jerkin, "We better wash and change. I do not wish to face your Sister in this ring as punishment for attending dinner as we are now."

"I agree. Better to arrive late and clean than be on time and risk our necks because of our less than formal attire." Thorin replied, patting the Commander of Erebor's Army on the shoulder and falling into step next to him as they started on their way to the Bathhouses.

* * *

Released from her fishtailed braid, her hair fanned out all around her, waving like reed as she submerged herself one final time. When her head broke the surface again the flower petals she had used to scent her hair with floated away like pure white snowflakes, pushed up now and then by the ripples traveling under them. Edúr rose and sat on the edge of the pool for a while, her feet lazily paddling the water and inhaling deeply so her nose filled with the strong sweet smell of Jasmine that had an intoxicating effect almost. Her long soak had had another result too for it had made her drowsy and she felt that if she were but to close her eyes she would drop off instantly. She wrung out her hair as best she could, then walked over a to a long stone bench that stretched out for the length of the bathing area, the cool, rough and yet smooth to the touch wall its back support. Her mind had been blissfully emptied but while she patiently and meticulously rubbed herself dry with a large, soft towel the thoughts that had occupied it before returned, like rain trickling inside a home through that one hole in the roof.

Her own wet hair that she had folded in the damp cloth to knead the remaining water out with her fingers had brought back the image of much darker hair that had she had brushed of a certain Dwarf's clammy forehead. He had appeared so feverish, so heavily under the influence of that powerful spell and yet the next day he had not abandoned his duties as King on his inspection of the Mines and had seemingly been in control of himself again. _Had it only been a brief episode_? _A lapse of his strong will to hold back the curse from taking him over completely_? _Or had it perhaps only been the beginning_? _A symptom of the disease on his mind that was growing stronger_? _Then again, maybe it had been one of the last convulsion of a fading magic now its power was wearing off instead_? _Who else knew_? _Who was going to help him_? _Balin and his Sister_? _Why did she want to do this too_? It was not as if her discovery and subsequent promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone bound her to offer him her help. _How could she even help_..? After all, her own grief about the tentative doom of her Clan was heavy enough a burden. _So why should she even want to carry part of his as well_? _To aid him in his struggle when clearly he had no desire for her to do so_..?

Edúr bit her lower lip, hands still holding the towel crumpled in her lap though she had not moved them and, dry as she might be, in nothing but her bare skin she was starting to cool down rapidly. She rubbed her arms, not yet able to cut off her train of thought. Maybe she felt this need to assist because he had said he did not need her pity, thereby arousing that defiant streak in her to somehow prove him wrong in his instant dismissal of her. Edúr did not know what she felt but it was not pity, it was something far more elusive that flitted in and out of sight as it hid itself in the jumble of very mixed emotions that reigned her heart of late. Eventually she shook her head, almost annoyed at her longing to have every single one of that waterfall of questions answered.

She got to her feet, leaving behind the towel on one of the hooks provided and intending to have her musing stay there too. Grateful for the feel and embrace of freshly laundered cotton she quickly stepped into her mint green dress. It was a simple one with a skirt that did not have folds but billowed out somewhat to cover her shoes whereas its unadorned sleeves loosely flowed around her arms and were closed around her wrists with a string of the same material. The lapels that made up most of the front of the dress -instead of a tight fitting bodice- were covered in white lace stitched with plain geometrical patterns like mingling triangles and rectangles that were attached to the hem too. Lastly Edúr tied the narrow leather belt in a single knot around her waist, gathered her working clothes off the floor and stepped out into the Common Area of the Bathhouses.

Despite her pensive mood persisting the long hot bath had done her good. With her body relaxed and clean she felt more revitalized than she had had in a long time and she was glad she had followed her Cousin's example and visited the place, she was determined to do so again. Edúr ambled along the broad hallway where a dozen or so Dwarves strolled in an equally lazy pace, some dressed in bathrobes while others walked around in a fresh set of clothes like she herself was. Looking out for Niam among the other bathers she soon located him through sheer noise alone. Even though her eyes could not see him there was no mistaking his lighthearted voice that mingled with some of the Company for if she was not mistaken she thought she could recognize Nori's out of tune singing, Oin's languid drawl and Bofur's storytelling voice. Judging by the sound of water splashing, towels snapping in the air like whips and unrestrained laughter she reckoned her cousin would still be a while which made her decide to return to their chambers and wait for him there.

She had just started on her way when someone turned the corner close by and stopped abruptly in front of her. Edúr just in time skidded to a halt herself and almost dropped the clothes she had folded over one arm -the hand of her other on top of it to keep them from sliding off as she walked- when her downward aimed eyes were suddenly level with a leather lined jerkin, the top half of which hung somewhat open now the straps that normally closed it hung loose. Although the garment covered most of the upper arms of the Dwarrow it revealed a considerable part of broad shoulders and a muscular yet lean chest, the skin of which gleamed with perspiration. What made her unable to avert her gaze straight away was the elaborate tattoo that crawled vertically in zigzagging, saw-like lines over his left shoulder that ran down all the way to where the jerkin covered it though it possibly went beyond. There was a similar one that horizontally crossed his chest so that the two converged over his heart in an intricate knot of square shapes and sharp angles so inherent to Dwarven architecture and style. She thought she could perceive a string of runes too but the somewhat faded ink and pearls of sweat that ran across it in rivulets made it impossible to make them out. Lifting her eyes, she almost dropped her work clothes again when she looked up into the face of none other than the King.

"Forgive me-"

"Your Majesty?!" She exclaimed in genuine surprise at the same time he had hastened to apologize for nearly running into her. Then, one corner of his mouth curving slightly upwards, an amused light sparked in his gray eyes, "I thought we had reached an understanding on that score..?" He reproached her, an unmistakably teasing edge to his voice.

"Yes.. We did.. Sorry.." She stammered back, cursing the fact that her brain would not provide her with coherent sentences. She had wanted to add his name, to show him she had not forgotten the request he had made of her yesterday in the Mines but it was stuck on the tip of her tongue. The sight of Dwalin appearing at his side made her swallow hard and she closed her mouth again now her courage failed her altogether. She stared at the Dwarf in front of her in silence for a moment longer, not knowing what to say. There was sweat beaded on his brows, trickling down his temples, and his black hair was moist with it too. There was no need to ask where he had come from, his clothing and heated appearance alone reminded her of how he had looked after their duel. That time she had not even caught a glimpse of his tattoo on which she cast a surreptitious glance before forcing herself to look away and prevent her eyes from straying near it again.

Becoming aware of the bald Warrior next to him made the King finally stir and wake from what she suspected was an anticipation of her saying his name, to seal their agreement with it. When he cleared his throat, however, sculpting his seemingly disappointed expression into one of civil neutrality Edúr was sure she must have imagined him harboring such an expectation.

"Did they not prepare a private bath in your room?" He asked her, sounding unsure whether he could even ask her this but also a little confused as to why she was even in this part of the city.

"They did. It is where I usually wash." She said, somehow feeling like this was not an appropriate topic for discussing with him. Dwalin's raised eyebrows and seemingly disapproving pouting of his lips told her it had struck him as odd too. The Dwarf's bushy moustache twitched as he crossed his arms over his burly and puffed up chest, prompting her to hurriedly finish her explanation, "My cousin persuaded me to try the Bathhouses now that some of them have been readied for use. He is a frequent visitor himself."

"And where is your Cousin?" Dwalin grumbled, throwing her a questioningly look.

"Niam has not yet finished. But I do not intend to wait for that might take longer than my patience could bear. So, if you will excuse me." Edúr gladly grasped the opening he had unwillingly offered her to make her escape and sidestepped both Dwarves only to be stopped by that same gruff voice again when she passed under an arch without reading the sign that hung from rusty chains above it. "That would be the Dwarrow section, My Lady."

She swiveled around just in time to see the beginning of that smile she could not forget to form on Thorin's face, his companion quite possibly the only Dwarf that could smirk with his lips a straight line and his brows knitted in an impressive frown at the same time. Scalp prickling in embarrassment and feeling the same unsettling sensation wriggle around in her stomach Edúr did not look at them directly but dipped her head quickly and turned the corner to be out of their sight. As she rushed through Erebor she considered it nothing short of a blessing that the warm bath had given her a color already for if it had not she did not want to contemplate just how obvious the blush reddening her cheeks would have been.

~Thanks for Reading & I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~

* * *

 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _bâha-ê = my friend_

 _All the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_

 **A/N: First off, I** **finally** **found a way to squeeze in a glimpse of Thorin's tattoo, had been eagerly awaiting a chance to do so haha Also, it turned into a little bit of a long chapter but I kinda felt I had to make up for being scandalously lazy during my vacation and not having posted for a couple of weeks ;p anyways, hope you guys enjoyed and that it was worth the wait! So… classes just started but I'm going to try my hardest and post a chapter every week! Stay tuned~**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Thanks to those who faved/followed! :D**

 _Angie: Thanks for your review! It seriously pained me to have to write how Thorin fears no one could possibly love him but with the Dragon Sickness still in his heart it undermines his self-confidence.. Not to worry, though, Edúr is going to fight this fight with him! I'm glad you liked the sparring scene between Thorin and Dwalin, I wanted to show their special friendship at some point in the story and felt a little guilty that it took me this long to get to it.. Their encounter in the Bath Houses was so much fun to write, I figured with all of the drama and emotions the story needed a lighter moment, and what better way to do this than describing (and imagining) Thorin looking all sensual and Edúr all embarrassed for feeling attracted to him..! :D_

 _Robinbird79: Yes, couldn't agree more with you there, I imagine tattoos would look insanely hot on an already hot dwarf who is more than able to pull that look off haha ;) And Dís' keen intuition is the perfect tool to put just that little bit of pressure on Thorin to face the facts (or more precisely the feelings growing in his heart which he is too stubborn and also too scared in a way to admit yet). Thanks for the review!_

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 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XIX**

PUSHING all thoughts of tattoos crisscrossing a chest gleaming with sweat to the back of her head -hopefully even further away than that- Edúr took a deep, steadying breath, pressed the wad of parchment even tighter to herself and raised a fist to knock. The somewhat muffled voice immediately answering her from the other side of the door, however, was not the one she had expected to hear. She pushed it open and stepped inside the King's study only to find herself face to face with his Sister. Lady Dís looked equally surprised at seeing her as she was, though it almost seemed as if there was also a sliver of disappointment and despair even that flashed through her eyes. The Dwarrowdam abruptly turned around on her heels to restlessly pace in front of a littered desk instead, by the looks of it she must have been repeating the same path back and forth right up to the moment when she had knocked.

"Lady Dís?" Edúr probed, though she seemed too occupied to notice, "I am sorry, I did not intend to disturb you, I was merely hoping to find your Brother here."

The mention of her sibling did manage to penetrate her ruminations and she froze in her movements to cast a weary glance at the empty chair behind the desk.

"So was I.." She admitted morosely, bringing her hands to rest on her hips while she hung her head with a deep sigh.

"My Lady?"

"Hmm..?" She replied pensively, still staring at the ground.

"Is something wrong? You look worried." Edúr asked, hoping not to sound too inquisitive.

The Dwarrowdam let out another melancholy humming sound, "It is nothing, I am sure. Only my Brother is once again not to be found it seems. One would almost suspect it is developing into a very bad habit indeed. Especially for a King. Then again, I cannot blame him for seeking solitude now and then, with every Dwarf having or thinking to have a claim on him and his time. I have often thought this Mountain to be too big but perhaps it is not big enough, I found it was surprisingly hard to hide away at times myself, though that has not stopped me from spending more time in my Sons crypt than at my Brother's side these last three moons.."

Edúr did not know what to say to Lady Dís now her shoulders sagged in despondency and she briefly closed her eyes as if hoping to ward of the worries that must plague her. Unsure whether it would be more impolite to leave or to stay she was spared having to make a decision on that point when the Dwarrowdam forced her thoughts to return to the present. She straightened her back and finally turned to look at her, wearing a slight frown, "What did you need him for?"

It took her a moment to realize she was inquiring after her reason for visiting the King before she hurriedly replied, "Oh, nothing important. Master Bifur send me to deliver his report and I took the map Ori and I have been working with me as well to show to him."

Lady Dís nodded in understanding, though her eyes somewhat glazed over again when no doubt her thoughts clearly wandered again, prompting Edúr to offer, "Is there anything I can do? Maybe Master Balin knows where-"

She resolutely shook her head, the black pearl beads strewn in her hair bouncing somewhat on her silver hair even as they clung to their web of the delicate strings, "He is in a meeting with the Council at the moment. It is where my Brother should have been too.." Lady Dís explained, her voice more worried than reproachful.

Edúr shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wondering if she should voice the suspicion that had grown in her mind but thought better of it when she could well be wrong in which case it would only add to her current distress.

"Perhaps even the King himself gets lost sometimes.." She remarked instead in what she deemed a feeble attempt to raise the Dwarrowdam's spirits. Only when Lady Dís grew suddenly more grave did she realize the very much unintended double meaning of her words. Her stomach clenched now she seemed to have suggested the King was not merely lost within Erebor, but within himself too. Before she could retract or at the very least amend that statement Lady Dís gave her a watery smile as if to tell her not to worry about having to soften the duality of what she had said, "That is very true. Perhaps this Mountain is too big after all."

But half relieved that Lady Dís seemed not to blame her for her thoughtlessness, something for which she was not sure she could readily forgive herself, she reached out to take the folded up map and Bifur's report from her. Edúr silently complied and handed them over, trying not to feel guilty for keeping her knowledge of where the King might be to herself but her last chance to tell lady Dís evaporated when she gave her a curt though not less appreciative nod of dismissal. For a moment she remained where she was, watching the Dwarrowdam garbed in a long, somber black dress walk over to the desk and sink down in the seat behind it looking pensive, the source of her worry far removed from the documents in her hands. Not wanting to lose more time Edúr quickly curtseyed and tried not to appear too hurried when she retraced her steps. The moment she had closed the door however, she hastened on her way to the one place in Erebor she thought the King might be..

* * *

The sea-green marble of many pillared balconies and balustraded galleries glimmered a sickly yellow in the glow of gold below while the perfectly carven stairs were halfway swallowed by a treasure so vast it seemed you could bury the world in it. Countless coins had flooded Thror's Halls like sand would a desert, with ruby rimmed cups, embossed shields and jewel laden chests scattered over the rolling surface that rose and dropped like quiescent waves. Here and there large fire baskets wrought of black iron jutted askew from the mass of wealth, flames within wreathing and licking the air while the light it cast around made the gold even more alluring and appear almost liquid. Edúr could not move upon first beholding the magnificent sight. She stood as one entranced and gaped at her surroundings until there was a sudden movement she picked up in the corner of her eye that instantly sobered her mind and heart. A lone figure clad in an equally black attire as his Sister stepped out of an arched chamber, boots grinding the coins underneath.

"Who is there? Show yourself!" The King's brusque command echoed around the massive hall, growing louder the further it traveled from its source. Edúr forced herself to move though instinctively she had wanted to shrink away in her environment. The moment she left the stairs and entered the world of riches her weight caused coins to shift and move away from her like a landslide. She could only just keep her balance, though if the treacherous surface underfoot had not made her fall than the gray eyes flashing in her direction afterwards almost did. They were riddled with a haunted look that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

"It is only I." She called out, voice involuntarily trembling a bit, pinned as she was under the King's stern gaze.

"What are you doing here?" He trudged towards her through the treasure around him as if through snow, slightly slurring his words. Then he suddenly stiffened and a distrustful scowl creased his forehead, "Have you come to steal from me?"

"Steal?" Edúr repeated in disbelief, balling her fists in an attempt to contain her emerging anger within their firm grasp, "I care not for treasure so there is nothing here worth stealing."

"Do not lie to me, _thief_..!" He spat indignantly, raising his hand in which something glittered maliciously before he threw it away from himself. It flew in a wide arch and landed with a crash in front of her feet, coins splashing into the air like a fountain. Shoulders somewhat hunched protectively in reflex, Edúr simply stared for a moment at the jagged and glassy diamond which had missed her only by a few inches to serve as a clear warning not to venture further. She looked up when there was the sound of coins once again moving on their own will it seemed. The King swayed as he was caught in the small avalanche, sinking down one knee and a curse passing his lips. When he raised himself and he staggered slightly to regain his footing Edúr finally overcame her hesitation to approach and waded through the sea of gold between them which reached up to her ankles.

"Get away.. Leave me.." He grumbled surly, one arm flailing through the air as if chasing off an annoying fly, then added in a completely different tone which had a pleading edge to it, "Please, I do not wish to harm you.."

Edúr froze in her tracks, feeling trapped between the desire to help him and flee at the same time. She watched him flounder in the source of the curse that had invaded his mind, his very heart, and knew she could not turn her back on him. "I cannot leave you. Not when you are.. When you are like _this_.."

He growled in seeming agony, his voice husky with strained emotion, "That is exactly why you need to go."

"No." She stated bluntly, refusing to abandon him even if it was against his wishes that she stayed. If anything observing her defiance stopped him short of retorting, of demanding once more that she leave. Perhaps it was the memory of her obstinate rebellion she had led against him from the outset that now distracted him, dispelled even, the dark cloud addling his mind. Slowly he seemed to come to himself and then all of a sudden look around as if he only just fully realized where he was and who was with him when his eyes roving over the piles of treasure found her amongst it.

"I am sorry.. I should not have said those things.. I do not know what made me.." He divulged somewhat falteringly but honestly, though his stance was steadier and so -gradually- was his voice.

"You were not yourself." Edúr replied, not able to look at him directly when she said it but not less convinced of the truth of her words. The King made an indistinct sound in the back of his throat, stirring ever so slightly as he kept his gaze fixed on her.

"Come closer, I wish to look upon the face of my conscious better." He told her with a wry sense of humor and held out his hand for her to take. She hesitated to accept the offer for a single second but it was enough for the longing expression on his face to morph into a look of hurt that marred his features. He dropped his arm to his side again, shoulders sagging in dejection and his voice acquiring a raw bitterness when he spoke, " _Asti agrud e_.."

" _Ma agrud astû_." She countered, fervidly wanting him to know it was not a lie and she truly felt this way. His eyes widened and he visibly tensed up when she took a step closer, desperate as she was to prove him wrong despite her heart's beating growing slightly more erratic as she neared him. She let out a long, steadying breath and added as she looked directly at him, " _Astu agrud zefsu_."

He bowed his head in response, pondering over her words to him. But she was not yet finished. Edúr stopped in front of him, for a moment the temptation to reach out and let her fingers caringly caress his face like she had done before too overpowering to allow her to speak. Repressing the strong urge she said as calmly and encouragingly as she could, "Do not give up. Fight it. You will beat this."

"How do you know that I will? My grandfather did not. This strain of corruption runs deep. It is in my blood.." The King muttered back, straightening and lifting his narrowed eyes to lock with hers.

"That does not seal your fate. Trust in your own strength as others do. As I do. Please, do not give in.."

He slowly shook his head, confusion being replaced with determination, "No. I will not. Though it would seem this is a battle slowly won. And I am hardly deserving of your trust in my eventual victory.. But I thank you for it. I am in your debt for the words you spoke just now."

Edúr felt her cheeks redden and she hastened to remove all claim for his humble admission of indebtedness, "Do not thank me, when all I can do is watch when you fight this curse alone. If you feel you do not deserve my trust than I certainly have not earned your gratitude by not holding my tongue and instead merely telling you something you already know."

"Do I?" He huffed in apparent amusement, though it was a subdued and muffled sound that barely seemed able to break through his more dominant brooding.

"Yes." She answered him so resolutely it seemed to harness him. No longer swaying or having that tormented look reflected in his eyes he let out a low grumbling sigh as if in somewhat reluctant agreement but agreement nonetheless. Next moment he offered her his hand again, accompanied by his previous longing though the gesture now lacked the rather guarded fearfulness it had possessed before. She placed her hand in his, suddenly feeling it was impossible to look at him when she had for her heart chose that precise moment to hammer wildly against her ribs as if it wanted to get out. With his guidance they made it to the path that was partly engulfed by the treasure where he let her fingers slip from his again, the tips of his brushing ever so slightly against hers. She was glad that his gaze did not stray to her for she could swear goosebumps riddled her very hands as the touch of his rougher skin on hers still lingered. He ambled at her side past piles of gold, seemingly more in control of himself in its enticing presence with every step he took. Suddenly he halted, one hand delving for coins which clattered down from his loose grip as he slowly raised it again. Edúr thought she saw him shiver once at both the sound and the sensation but then he squared his shoulders and seemed to have warded off the spell's effect.

"I have given my permission for recounting the gold to my Master of Coin. I came here again because wanted to test myself one more time before Gloín and his Guild swarm all over this treasure.." He explained, another shiver seemingly running through him at that prospect but it was again quickly repressed, "I owe it to my people to try.. _Mahal_ , for my Sister's sake alone.. For y-" He broke off, then after a long look at her turned abruptly away and started walking again, saying solemnly, "I have to become stronger."

"Why not wholly entrust this task to Master Gloín?" She suggested as she caught up to him, his unfinished sentence having her rooted to the spot for a moment, "There is no need for your presence in these treasure halls if it is proving to be too taxing still?"

"I am King, there are no tasks too taxing. There can never be." Was his curt reply, sounding unmistakably proud and stubborn.

"This one is. There is no point in pushing yourself over the edge. I know I have not the right to speak to you thus, but surely it is wiser to take this step by step?" Like he himself had done but moments ago she buried her hand in the pile of gold next to the path, taking out but a single coin and studying it while a watery smile curved her lips, "One coin at a time if need be?"

As she turned it around in her fingers he spun around to face her but he did not look possessed by a ravenous jealousy like he had before when she had only gazed at the collected wealth of Erebor in wonder. Instead the ghost of a smile appeared on his face too, "Are you always right?"

"Seldomly." She confessed in a equally lighter tone, relief spreading through her now he seemed to have shaken off his gloom.

"Then I do no doubt it was my stubbornness that has provided you with the rare chance to be."

"It certainly helped." She placed the coin on a tower of them, which wobbled but held, then looked back to the King. If he had felt anything resembling a shiver this time he kept it well hidden. Appearing lost in thought for a moment he stared at the path under their feet then met her gaze again and motioned for her to resume their walk, saying earnestly, "I must leave this place.. For now. If I am to grow immune to the seduction of gold coin by coin it would seem I have to return daily for many centuries to come." He remarked in good humor, sounding resigned yet determined to take on the challenge and adding when she at first did not move, "Will you come with me?"

She forced her eyes to stop ogling at the Dwarf in front of her whose handsome face had garnered an even more enticing quality from the warm glow around them, lending a certain smoothness to his strong jawline and chiseled nose while, set between finely cut cheekbones, two orbs a deep gray glistened and sparked. Flustered Edúr hastily nodded and fell into step next to him as they wandered in silence further along the path snaking its way through Thror's Halls.

~Thanks for Reading & I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~

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 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _"_ _Asti agrud e_.." = "You fear me.."

" _Ma agrud astû_." = "I do not fear you."

" _Astu agrud zefsu_." = "You fear yourself."

 _All the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_

 **A/N: Sorry that this chapter's kind of short, school has only just started but it's getting crazily busy already.. I'm determined to post one chapter every week though and all of your continued support definitely motivates me to keep going! :D At the moment I'm already halfway with the next chapter (in which Thorin and Edúr will finally have a long and rather personal conversation which I figured was kind of overdue) so it shouldn't take too long before I can post that one too!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Thanks to those who faved/followed, it's great to know people are liking this story! :D**

 _Robinbird79: yeah, I know the feeling, I wanted to give him a hug too, haha ;) I wanted to show the subtle change in him overcoming Dragon sickness, it's still going to be a somewhat long road and his recovery will be step by step but I'm glad you picked up on the fact that it will get easier for him to fight it.. Thanks for your review!_

 _Angie: Thank you for yet another sweet review! :) I guess that first sentence kind of betrays where my own (and by extension Edúr's) thoughts were, haha ;) I'm trying to give Dís enough of a role in the story, to create a bond with Edúr and increase the strong one she has with her brother, after all there aren't a lot of Dwarrowdams in this story so I'm glad you like the scenes with her in them! Hope you'll like the talk that Edúr and Thorin have and the moment they share together in this chapter!_

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 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XX**

ALTHOUGH an icy blast at first chilled him to the bone he took the final step of a somewhat hidden and zigzagging stairs and was relieved to find the partly sealed off corner of the battlement deserted. Further along, beyond where it had been split in two by a massive rock, it ran on all the way above the gate on which he could see Armored Guards pacing back and forth, their watchful eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. Those from the Iron Hills had Warhammers resting on their shoulders while Erebor's own Warriors carried halberds that thudded dully on the stone underfoot with every firm stride they took. Thorin warily eyed the big gray lump to his right, he remembered the day the rock had come crushing down but all too well..

It had been when his Sister had arrived to attend her Sons burial. He had waited for her on the threshold of the large Gate, flanked and propped up by Dwalin and Balin for his fresh battle wounds meant he had not been able to carry his own weight yet. It had been a stormy day, with wind whipping the few pines that dotted the valley while the Mountain had been harassed by a continuous downpour of cold rain. The moment he had greeted Dís, their foreheads gently pressed against one another, a bolt of lightning had ripped open the darkened sky and had struck the top of one of the huge Dwarven statues that had stood as a loyal sentinel of stone for centuries. Thorin was not a Dwarf to put much stock in superstitious beliefs, but he sincerely hoped it had not been a sign by Mahal himself that he would fail as a King. If his actions over the last few moons were telling him one thing, however, he had yet to prove himself as a worthy descendent of the mightiest of Dwarflords. But he _was_ a Son of Durin. And Durin's folk did not flee from a fight. It was why he had gone down there again.

Surrounded by his grandfather's gold he had felt like he had been suffocating in his own madness. And then _she_ had been there. First nothing more than a blurry silhouette in a haze of yellow. He had shouted at her. Accused her of being nothing more than an ordinary robber. _Mahal_ he had even thrown something at her. Only then had his head cleared and had he recognized her. Not trusting himself panic had washed over him and he had begged her to go. But she had not. The relief that had spread through him when she had told him she was not scared of him and had taken his hand nearly made him sink to his knees. He had felt stronger. As if her presence protected or at least shielded him from the prying glare of gold.

Nevertheless, it had been such a trial again and he was utterly ashamed of himself. _Why did it have to be she who found him once more_? Who saw him like _this_.. How she must despise him. Be disgusted by him. The _real_ him. And yet he had not been able to send her away, to escort her to her room. Instead he wanted her to remain close, by his side. Thorin turned around at the sound of soft footsteps behind him, despite the trying day it had been a smile at the sight of her worked his way to his lips: _She had not left him_..

He took in her frail and delicate shape clearly visible in her long sleeved shirt and breeches as she joined him then realized with a pang of guilt she might well freeze to death outside wearing nothing but those clothes.

"Here. Take this." He shrugged off his cloak and held it out to her but she shook her head almost instantly upon perceiving the gesture.

"There is no need. I am warm enough-"

"In these temperatures you won't be for much longer." He cut her protests short, wanting her to understand he was making an offer that he would not let her refuse.

She hesitated, narrowing her eyes as they traveled over the padded tunic he wore as if she doubted it would keep him warm enough, "How about you? Won't you catch a cold?"

"I doubt I will. My recent.. _Ordeal_ , has ensured I have fire running through my veins instead of blood." He ensured her, careful to keep the bitterness he felt at that from seeping into his voice.

"If you insist.." She reluctantly gave in.

"I do." Thorin replied dryly, that smile tugging at the corners of his mouth again as he stood in front of her, cloak in hands. He reached out and, even though he was taller than her, she instinctively bowed her head so it was easier for him to lift the woolen garment before he flung it over her shoulders. A part of him wanted to linger in this manner, with his arms on either side of her and his hands gently on her slender shoulders as he draped it around her. Seeing her in his own cloak -which was too big and fell in heavy folds to the ground where it gather around her feet- Thorin longed for her to lift her head and turn her eyes on him. Overcoming the impulse to patiently wait until she would he instead took what he hoped was an inaudible intake of breath and proceeded to close the clasp under her chin, his fingers accidentally brushing her collarbones as he did. She almost seemed to startle at the unexpected touch of his skin on hers and looked up at him, fulfilling the sincere wish he had not said out loud. _Was it his imagination that her eyes flitted uneasily from left to right_? _That her breath had hitched for even the briefest of moments when he had closed the clasp_? _And if she had, was it because she was that appalled by him after all_?

Without saying a word she moved away from him, his long cloak trailing behind her, billowing a little in the cold breeze. He simply watched her as Edúr wrapped the leather lined fabric closer around herself, letting her elbows rest on the crumbled remains of an obliging merlon. Thorin walked over to stand by her side, as respectful a distance away from her as he could manage without wholly ignoring his yearning to close the gap between them or prompting it to grow even stronger. Together they looked out over a wide landscape covered in a pristine white blanket, the stars above making the ice crystals sparkle in equal luster.

"It reminds me of the North. Of home.. Snow is the same wherever it falls in Middle Earth it seems. Though the Keep from which I look out on it is not.." Edúr eventually spoke her thoughts out loud, breaking the tentative silence that had hung over them.

Thorin involuntarily tensed up, her last sentence stinging his heart. He knew it was impossible for her to consider Erebor as her new home, it was far too early for that, but that did not take away the fact that he fervently wished she would. _One day_.. _Mahal he was being selfish for even thinking that_..! Annoyed at himself, Thorin forcefully buried his impatience and instead asked with genuine interest, "Will you tell me of your Keep?"

For a moment it seemed she would not answer him but then she looked at him sideways something close to a weak smile on her face, "I am not sure I could give away its secrets. If I did my Cousin would be bound in honor to cut off my tongue."

He knew that she did not feel the apparent lightheartedness in which she had spoken for her eyes wavered, a soft blue set against her pale skin.

"I do not think him capable of that." He remarked, unsure of what else he could say now she had obviously attempted to deflect his question. _How could he be so foolish not to realize that talking of her Keep must be too painful_?!

"Neither can I," She conceded, seemingly glad he had mimicked her lighter tone of voice even though neither truly felt that way yet, "though you should not underestimate his loyalty to me, as heir to my father's title, he would have to obey my every command."

"In all honesty I cannot imagine a Dwarrow who would be able to refuse you, whether he would be bound by fealty or not." The quip had fallen from his lips before he could stop it and he was more than a little relieved when she did not seem taken aback by it nor could he trace any unwillingness to discuss the topic with him when he had expected to. Instead the hint of a dimple creased her cheek and she retorted sharply, " _You_ did, if I recall correctly."

"And I have regretted it ever since, even more so if it prevents you know from speaking your mind. From telling me about yourself. You need not mention any secrets, I merely wish to be able to picture where you come from. The life you had there. I know so little of you though I doubt not I have only myself to blame for that. My Sister and Balin have done so much more to make you feel like you belong here too. To try and understand how you must feel.."

He could feel her stir next to him even though their shoulders did not graze each other for -to his regret- they stood too far apart for that. He observed her as her fingers fumbled with the somewhat frayed end of her sleeve, eyes staring out at the snow covered lands stretching out before them. There was something heartbreaking about how she coiled and uncoiled a loose thread around her index finger without really seeming to be aware of it. Thorin swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to relinquish her from the obligation to satisfy his curiosity, to grant him his request, but when he had been on the verge of apologizing she opened her mouth and took a steadying breath before she started her story.

"The silence was unbearable at times. Even now when I try to think of everything else that belongs to my home, that I associate with my Clan, it is the silence that I remember most. No one lived on the upper levels, they were used for storage mostly except for the Main Hall. As a child I was not allowed to go up that far but I did. Countless times. The floor is a made out of a beautiful mosaic and I liked to trace its patterns with my feet, feeling I was performing some kind of ancient dance that no one knew the steps of but me. I did not mind the silence then, only when father found me and forbade me to go there again without a guard did it become oppressive. Did the whispering and low voices everyone spoke in the nearer we got from our chambers to the surface start to grate on my ears more than any loud noise or racket ever could. And it was dark too. Even though it was the only place daylight reached still the shadows in that Hall were more frightening than those in the dimly lit paths running down deeper into the mountain."

"It must have been hard to grow up not knowing why you had to be silent, but I do not doubt the wisdom of your father in demanding it of you and everyone else of your kin."

"It was hard.. But it did not take me long to learn the reason for why I could not be up there. One day, on my twelfth birthday, I was determined to gaze upon the stars so I snuck out from dinner and went up to the Main Hall. Of course it was too cloudy that evening and the rugged slits were too high and narrow for me to see through. They were not narrow enough to keep the Goblin out that appeared out of nowhere. All I could do was watch as it crawled inside and down the wall like a deformed spider, shrieking and grunting like a hog. An arrow whistled passed me, piercing the Goblin's ugly head, it's dead body slamming on the ground before my feet. My mother had followed me, if she had not, I would not be alive today. Even though it was rare for one of our enemies to find, let alone enter the Keep, the threat of it was always present. For the first time in my life I recognized that it was fear in my mother's eyes that I had seen there before, reflected in hers and in all the older Dwarves' gazes. And it was contagious. Unshakable. Stifling." As if the sensation resurfaced and threatened to take her over she took a slight gulp of air, briefly closing her eyes and collecting herself. Thorin felt powerless to help her with this no matter how much he wanted to, so instead he allowed for a respectful silence to let her know he was and would continue to listen but not intending to force her to do so.

Soon Edúr had recovered and she went on in a steadier voice, "My grandfather named our Keep _Adjun_ , he could never give up hope that one day his Clan would return to Erebor. But when he passed and my father took over he changed it to _Manathrul_."

"It is a sad name.." Thorin grumbled, feeling yet again a stinging sensation pricking from behind his ribs, it was maddening but he could not help but believe it was a small punishment for his own grandfather's deeds.

She nodded, expression equally grim, "It is. In a way both of them are. I still do not know which of the two has more truth in it, but for most of my life it seemed the only way for us to survive was to be forgotten by the world outside. By our allies, as well as our enemies. There was no room for hope. There was always silence because we could not risk the tiniest sound to give us away. There were too few of us, always had been, to stand a change against the Goblins and Orcs roaming the mountains and wilderness around us. If they discovered our Keep it would be the end of us, certainly when the number of our enemies was growing year after year while ours dwindled. We did what we could. As soon as my training was finished I joined the hunting parties to scour the surrounding area but we always had to randomly attack or at a considerable distance for otherwise or our enemy could have pinpointed our position. But we failed to keep our home secret. All those years of hiding away.. And then Gundabad was unleashed. They hunted us relentlessly, like they had never done before. And they discovered our Keep. It seems my father was prophetic in his naming for who will remember us and how we fought to protect the life we had there no matter how hard it was..?" There was a bitter edge to her voice that cut him to the core but Thorin could not stop himself from asking that which he suddenly yearned to know, "If you could name your Keep, change it like your father before you, what would it be?"

The hint of a sad but proud smile played across her face and she straightened her back, looking directly at him, " _Akal_.." She all but whispered, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

"Now that speaks to me more of hope than to accept the bleak fate of being forever forgotten." He told her solemnly, feeling it felt utterly short of the support he was desperate to offer her. It took all his willpower to resist the impulse to embrace her as she remained unwaveringly at his side, eyes straying back to the wintery landscape below.

"I know I should have relished more the happiness that was to be found also in that life, but constant fear is paralyzing. It is destructive. The uncertainty of whether tomorrow everything I knew would be crushed out of existence, and if not through the malicious violence of our enemies than by the inevitability of the end of our bloodline for new Dwarrowlings were growing scarce, is a heavy burden to bear. Not just for me, for all of us. And yet..." She paused, furrowing her brows in a realization that was as surprising to her as it seemed blissful, "I would never have stopped fighting for it. I will never stop. I may not miss the anxiety and oppression of always being surrounded by enemies, but I long to hear everyone's voices, their laughter and talk that fills the Feast Hall which is as far underground as your mines. I yearn for the music we played and songs we sang there in the one place where fear had no power over us."

The precious memory must have been strong enough to fill her entire being for she huffed out a watery laugh seemingly recalling something else with fondness, "Though my father always thought I should have spent more time in his study, he insisted I was taught everything about ruling the Clan from an early age. It is not that I did not want to learn, that I did not know what was expected of me, but I always preferred the crowded Feast Hall to his lofty study. My grandfather had it modeled on the Halls of Records of _Khazad-dûm_ , he often told me he and King Thror would talk of it. Well.. They did.. Before.."

"Before he falsely accused your grandfather and banished him and his kin. Before he banished you.." Thorin supplied, burning guilt surging through him again at the thought, even more so at his own initial treatment of her which was hardly more honorable. He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding in repressed rage. _That accursed Dragon and the sickness he and his grandfather before him had fallen prey to was at the root of a lot of misery and grief_..

"My grandfather wished I could see it. That we would heal the breach between our families and one day I would travel together with a son of Durin to enter those hallowed Halls of the ancient kingdom of Moria and stare at it in equal awe."

She sounded calm, not angry or reproachful and it instantly soothed his own agony. He took a few steps towards her only just holding back on reaching out and placing his hands on her shoulders, "We may yet do so. One day. I well remember my grandfather telling me tales of _Khazad-dûm_ too."

"Careful, I might lure you away from your recently reclaimed Keep and hold you to that promise." Edúr said warningly, those dimples again creasing her cheek as if betraying the smile she consciously kept in check.

"I hope you will keep me to my word, I am told I need reminding sometimes." He told her, not expecting it had somehow become easier to admit his flaws so freely to her and the image of Bilbo flashing before his mind's eye, the echo of his words still powerful enough to make him determined never to break his word again. For a moment there was a silence between them, not heavy but pleasant, with only the rhythmic thuds of halberds from his Warriors thumping on the ground and the occasional order barked from one Guard to the next. Thorin did not know how to find the right words, he did not even really know what he wanted to say so eventually he settled for simply expressing his gratitude, "Thank you for telling me of you Clan so openly, it cannot have been easy to talk of it and yet you did when I asked you. _Akhmini_ _astî_."

She hummed her acceptance, a light guttural sound that almost sounded musical to his ears and he felt his spine tingling because of it, "I will not lie for that life was not easy, I know how fear can come close to quelling it and I felt trapped inside the mountain sometimes. But when I grew older I understood and I came to love it for what it was. It was a small Keep, but it was ours and it was worth protecting, if only for those rare moments of happiness when everyone was gathered for celebration at a birth or when someone passed or was killed on a scouting mission and we cried and laughed together as we honored their memory. It was home.. It _is_ home." Edúr's gnashed her teeth, a guilt-ridden look on her face, "It is where my father still is.."

"You have hope still?" Her determined silence at this was answer enough and he cursed inwardly for voicing his thoughts so rashly, "Forgive me, of course you have.."

"It is not certain that he has perished. Until it is I may grief for his loss but I cannot accept that he is.." She broke off, swallowing hard and visibly fighting back tears, "That he is truly gone. That he is dead.."

"You are right, one must not give up when those we love are concerned. One cannot. One does not. I should not have said that, not when I know how it feels when you seem the only one left to hold on to that hope, no matter how small, that he still lives. My father went missing at the battle of _Azunalbizar_. They told me he had fallen but I searched and did not find his body among the slain. I knew he was still alive. It was torture not knowing what happened. All those long years of hoping, of coming close to despairing and giving up.."

"You know the fate of your father now?"

He nodded gravely, "Gandalf passed on a message after the Battle for the Mountain. He recounted my father's last words before he was snatched by darkness. Before he died.."

"I am sorry.."

He grumbled appreciatively in her direction, words momentarily stuck in his throat until he cleared it and forced his voice out, "I would have wished to have seen him, even if only once, to bid goodbye to him. But I am grateful for finally knowing the truth no matter how cruel it proved to be. And I never stopped believing he was alive all that time. I cannot guarantee that your father still is, nor will I lie and tell you anything other than that the chance of it is remote, but I will be the last person to persuade you to give up on him. To give up on hope."

" _Ahkmini astû_." The dip of her head and downcast eyes made him once again long to lift her chin up at him with his finger so he would not be cut off even if for a moment from those radiantly blue eyes.

"Even though I have deemed myself unworthy of your trust and you ensured me my gratitude was misplaced, would it be vain of me to accept yours now?" He probed, slightly worried he might have sounded too teasing for her liking. To his instant relief, however, she shook her head in denial.

"No. not at all. In fact, it is my sincere wish that you do for it will save me the trouble of thanking you again for many a moon to come." She admitted with something close to a grin curving her lips.

His heartfelt laugh burst free from its usual restraints before he could bury it deep within himself. Somehow the sensation felt liberating and he reveled in the fact that her eyes had lit up with mirth too. Thorin could not keep his own from greedily taking in her face, never had he seen her look this alive and the sight was mesmerizing. Next moment, however, he noticed the slight shivering of her body, and the cloudy breaths that left both their mouths. They had stood here for too long already. It was dark and cold. He had been horribly selfish for wanting to indulge himself by prolonging their conversation, to enjoy her company a little bit longer instead of realizing sooner that she was growing cold.

"I fear the hour is growing late and it looks like fresh snow will fall soon. We should go inside." He quickly suggested, turning his back on the battlements after a last long look at the snow covered landscape and offering to help her down the crooked stairs leading away from it. They made their way in silence through the maze of corridors, most of which were completely deserted. To soon for his liking they had reached the chambers she shared with her Cousin and he had to refrain from opening the door on her behalf, he did not want her to feel uncomfortable now he suddenly had learned to be more chivalrous towards her. Besides, he was not sure he could keep from entering himself if only to walk alongside her for a few paces more to her bedroom door, at which point he really would have needed to take his leave. The sound of Edúr clearing her throat woke him from his irrational musings and he looked away from the door in front of him. She was staring at him with a quizzical look in her eyes that flitted briefly from himself to the door. He felt a burning shame rise the hair in the back of his neck even though she could not have possibly read his mind and he assured himself the embarrassing thoughts that had entered it remained his and his alone.

Apparently -and thankfully- deciding she could not unravel the look he gave her she instead unclasped his cloak and offered it to him, "Goodnight. Thorin."

That way his name had somewhat tentatively but not less determinedly passed her lips rendered him suddenly yet wholly speechless. He forced his body to respond, to reach out with his hands and accept the cloak back. His tongue seemingly stuck to the roof of his mouth he opened and closed it again without any sound coming out. Growing impatient with his foolish behavior he willed himself to speak, but all too aware it would in fact also be the first time for him to use only her first name, a realization that only seemed to add to a restless, tumbling sort of feeling wreaking havoc in his chest, "Goodnight, Edúr."

~Thanks for Reading & I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~

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 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _'_ _Adjun' = 'Hope'_

 _'_ _Manathrul' = 'That which is forgotten'_

 _'_ _Akal' = 'Future'_

 _"_ _Akhmini_ _astî_." / _"Ahkmini astû_." = "Thank you."

 ** _All the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Sorry for the wait guys! School has been a bit crazy the last couple of weeks and I got behind on my writing/posting schedule (which seriously put me in a bad mood by the way ;p), but I should have more time for writing soon though so don't worry, there's no way I'm abandoning this story if only because there are still so many other hobbit stories in my head for which I somehow also need to find the time to write ;) Also thanks for faving/following this story and hereby allow me to bid you welcome new readers! :D**

 _Robinbird79:_ Yes, it was kinda ominous, wasn't it? ;) haha don't worry too much about it though, there'll still be some hardships/challenges ahead but I tend to overdramatize things with the scenery and stuff a bit sometimes too ;p Thank you for leaving me a review!

 _Guest:_ Thank you! Your compliment makes me blush! I hope you continue to enjoy reading this story and thank you for your review!

 _Angie:_ I'm trying to have Edúr and Thorin really become more open towards each other, so you can expect more of these intimates moments for future chapters ;) It gives me such a thrill to write Thorin all rattled because of simple things that Edúr does like saying his name and how both of them are struggling with understanding their mutual feelings, hihi This chapter I wanted to have some Edúr/Niam and Thorin/Dís bonding time but next chapter it's going to be Thorin/Edúr again, hope you enjoy and thanks for your review!

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 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hobbit. This is solely a non-profit fan activity, and in no way intends to infringe on copyrights held by Tolkien/MGM/New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson.

 **Chapter XXI**

MORKAI let out a happy caw and swooped down from his usual spot on the mantelpiece, landing on her shoulder but a moment later with surprising lightness and a gentle grip of his talons to keep himself in place. Facing the door she could swear he threw it a piercing stare as if his sharp hearing had picked up on a certain Dwarf's voice drifting through not too long ago, before deciding his mistress did not need his protection and started to carefully nibble at her braids with his beak like he would groom his own or another Raven's feathers. Feeling filled with conflicting thoughts and emotions, Edúr absentmindedly stroked the bird's long tail feathers and gazed at the fire blazing in the hearth. She had only taken a few slow steps in its direction, wondering why the flames were still raging inside the grate at this time of night, when she noticed the shadowy outline of a figure frozen in his movement in front of the shuttered windows.

"Edúr!" Niam's raised voice caused Morkai to flap his wings and take off again to return to his resting place on the mantelpiece as her cousin rushed over.

"Thank _Mahal_ you finally returned! When you weren't at dinner this evening, and nor was the King.. The Lady Dís looked upset about something and for a moment I feared.. That maybe.." For the second time that day it seemed she had interrupted someone's restless pacing. First it had been the Lady Dís and now her cousin, though the source for it in the former's case had solely been her Brother whereas the latter seemed concerned for both her and the King.

"I doubt he is going to challenge me to another duel, Niam. Your fears on that score are entirely unfounded for what Dwarf would willingly set himself up to lose." Edúr assured him jokingly as she picked up on his unspoken insinuation. The image of those deep gray eyes unwaveringly directed at her when Thorin had taken his leave only moments before returning in full force and somehow spurring her to deflect his concern with jest. Seeing the earnest frown that creased her cousin's forehead, however, she hastily sobered her tone and added regretfully, "I am sorry to be late. I did not intend to cause you to worry."

A careful smile broke through his apparent anxiety and he waved away the need for her to apologize with a shrug, querying afterwards with a softened voice from which he could not keep all of his evident worry, "Where have you been? Master Bifur assured me you finished working in the South Wing hours ago.."

"Oh, I, uh.. I went for a walk." His frown reversed and changed into a quizzical arching of his brows instead, prompting her to elaborate, "it turned into a bit of a long walk. I lost my way a couple of times and forgot about the time." She was not sure why she felt it necessary to lie, or rather to not tell him the whole truth of where she had been, but somehow leaving out the with whom seemed the wisest thing to do. After all, she did not wish to break her promise to Thorin and tell her cousin of his struggles with Dragon Sickness. Truth be told, she was not sure she entirely grasped just what that entailed exactly herself yet. Let alone why she felt drawn towards a Dwarf who, by all rights, she should perhaps feel repelled by instead. All she really knew at the moment was that their long talk had somehow fueled a desire to do so again despite the present instability of his mind, of his heart even, for she could not deny that telling him of her Keep, sharing her emotions with him had made her feel less empty than she had felt in a long time. If through her stories and memories he would remember her Clan, he would know her father, it would make her feel so less alone too. A stab went through her sad heart at the thought for it felt too much like she was giving up, no matter what she had claimed in front of the King.

"Edúr?" Niam looked up at her from the cushion strewn sofa, his uncertain expression piquing her interest.

"Of course I can ask you some other time, after all you must be tired.." He all but stammered when she moved over to join him.

"Ask me what?" She probed cautiously, feeling slightly guilty for not having heard him when he must have already attempted to broach whatever subject he wished to discuss with her when her thoughts had still been locked onto something entirely different. She sat down next to Niam who seemed to grow uncharacteristically nervous.

"Well, I don't really know where to begin.. I don't think we have ever talked of this. It seems more the task a Guardian would perform but.. But now that we are here, now that it is just the two of us.." He swallowed hard than gathered his courage and plunged on, "You know I have always valued your advice. I would be grateful if I could have it once more."

"Then you shall have it." Edúr encouraged him, looking at him directly. For a moment he tousled through his brown hair -making it stand up in even more disheveled tufts- before releasing the breath he had been holding.

"Is it true that.." He paused, eyes flitting from left to right in search of the right words and finally turning to face her, blurting out in a steady yet uncertain voice, "Do Dwarves really love but one other?"

Edúr inadvertently blinked, instantly looking away from her cousin's questioning eyes and feeling as if her heart had suddenly swollen to twice its size judging by how loudly it thumped in her chest. Apart from fearing that she was possibly the last Dwarf that could answer him - _for what did_ she _know of love_?- there was something else that caused her to feel inexplicably restless with herself. It was unnerving that her thoughts chose that precise moment to push forward to her mind the fresh memories of that handsome face, of the weight of his coat on her shoulders and how his warmth that still clung to it had seeped through it into her own body, how his dark hair had melted with the night around it while his eyes had shone an even lighter gray in contrast.. Despite being warmed up she again trembled slightly as she remembered the touch of his fingers accidently and ever so briefly brushing her collarbones..

"Edúr..?"

She blinked again, this time to dispel the power her unbidden reminiscing had on her and opened her mouth to force her voice out even if she did not know yet how to answer his question, "Perhaps.. I mean, most of our race has always believed that to be true. Also seeing Dwarrowdams are so scarce, I don't believe anything but the strongest connection could bind our fate with that of a Dwarrow.." she huffed out a laugh at her own seriousness, adding in a lighter tone, "If we are known for being stubborn, then it follows we must be equally headstrong when it comes to the one Dwarf we form an unbreakable bond with."

"Yes. Somehow that makes more sense than perhaps it should." Niam agreed with a smile that was quickly repressed as he turned to her with a face suddenly grave again, "Are we.. Are we supposed to search for them? _How_ do we even do that?"

"Maybe we do without knowing that we do.. Maybe we yearn to find them and the fact that there is no guarantee you will does not make that instinct any less persistent. I remember my mother telling me that one day she was filled with a longing for someone she did not yet know. That her journey to find her One, to find my father, was like being pulled together, like waves that are called to the shore, the inevitable tide making the sand and the water destined to meet.." Edúr once again shook her head at her own almost poetic sentimentality, "Well, I am not sure if those were her exact words.."

Next to her Niam silently took in what she had said, a determined light growing stronger in his bright blue eyes, "I hope they were, or close to it at least." He admitted then leant back to rest on the pile of cushions, one arm folded to prop up his head, the other draped across his chest as he stared pensively up at the ceiling, "What does it feel like when we _do_ meet them?"

"I do not know.." She also let herself fall back into the embrace of the sofa, adding with a sigh, "I am not even sure you would know instantly that you have.. Then again, I imagine it must be different for every Dwarf. Maybe it is like being struck by lightning for some. And maybe for others it is more like slowly starting down a path that had not been there before. I do not think anyone can tell beforehand what it will feel like. Or that you will know you are feeling it when you do.."

She felt him shift his weight on the cushions to look at her sideways, brows knitted in confusion though at the same time something closely resembling an amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Sorry. If I am honest then I must admit I cannot grasp what possessed you to ask me for advice in this regard for I am sure I am not making any sense."

Edúr confessed, an uncomfortable writhing sensation starting in the region of her stomach and traveling up until it felt like a worm was wriggling through her heart as he would through an apple. Truth was that she had never thought about it. Not this deeply. Though that did not mean she had never wondered. Had made her any less fond of listening to both her mother and grandmother's stories on the subject. She had even believed them. As a child that was. But then she had grown older, had known her fate to be intricately tied with her Clan, with one day ruling their Keep. That, more than anything, more than even considering there could be One she was destined to love, had filled her life. Having come to Erebor had not changed that.. _Had it_?

"Nevertheless I can't say I feel guilty for asking you, for despite your rambling I feel there is truth in what you say." Niam told her with his usual youthful blitheness, adding somewhat mysteriously, "Perhaps even more so because of that which you are not saying."

"How do you mean?" Edúr probed, his words rather abruptly pulling her out of her reverie.

"Nothing." He said sounding slightly secretive and lifting his shoulders in a half shrug, "It just seems to me you know more of this than you are aware of yourself. So, with your permission, I will ask you again. Do you think we know when we have found our One?"

"I do not think you need me to answer that for you would not have asked if you did not already know." She countered with equal enigma, his insinuation however subtle causing her to stubbornly want to steer away from any revealing introspection. After all, they were talking about him. He was the one that had asked for her advice, not the other way round. Edúr let out a long slow breath to steady the whirl of emotions that had flared up within her seemingly for no reason. Then, when she had calmed down enough her head cleared again as quickly as it had become jumbled upon perceiving her cousin's thoughtful and sincere expression, "Is it Freya you talk of?"

His eyes widened at the mention of Bofur's niece and he visibly tensed up before he simply nodded. Edúr mimicked the movement with a dip of her own chin, probing gently and with restored composure, "Why don't you tell me what you feel, I cannot speak for your heart but you can."

He nodded once more, then inhaled deeply before he gave in to her request and started to put what must seem indescribable into words, "My feelings for her are strong. Stronger than I have felt for anyone. And they seem to grow every time I meet with her. Talk to her. I cannot stop but see her face before me even when we are apart. Or forget the way she tosses her curls over her shoulder and they bounce back despite her habitual efforts to chase them away. How her nose wrinkles when she laughs. How she looks at me and all I can see are her eyes, shining more brightly than the richest jewels this mountain has to offer." He paused, his lips mirroring her own smile that was close to breaking through at his evident passion, and he let out an almost despairing sigh afterwards, "Oh, I don't know.. Maybe I am wrong.. How do you think it must feel?" He could not refrain from asking again, a hint of eager curiosity seeping into his voice.

Edúr could not help but stir uneasily though she tried to mask the movement as if she was merely readjusting her position among the many cushions on the marble sofa. It did not help to settle her thoughts which were rather frantically running in the same circles over and over again _. How could she give him advice when she did not even know if she herself would ever meet her One_? _If she did not know for sure whether he even existed_?! _And, by far the most unsettling thought of all, what if she had already met him_..? Edúr closed her eyes and absentmindedly rubbed her forehead, hoping against hope the meditative and repetitive motion would soothe her and the panic she felt rising in herself. _How could that be true_..? How could it be.. It could not be _him_..

"Cousin?" Niam threw her a questioning look when she suddenly sat upright and it took all of her willpower not to give in to the longing to pace until her soles would wear away, until the moon had been replaced by the sun at least a dozen times and when no fire could be bothered to kindle ever again in the hearth she stared into. And yet, despite not knowing what to say she opened her mouth and started to speak, "It feels as if the need to know the other like you know yourself will inevitably overwhelm you in its rising waves. As if their presence is so inexplicably intoxicating the irrational thought enters your head that they make you be more than yourself. Make you what you could be. When you want to give in to the desire to take a step closer even if it is at your own peril.. When you seem to do so even when you don't know whether you should." Edúr trembled at her own fervor but she could not stop. She fought back tears that pricked in the corner of her eyes and added in a whisper when moments before her voice had steadily grown in volume instead, "Why do I want to be in his thoughts as much as he seems to be in mine..?"

She stared blankly at the dying embers scattered in the blackened hearth, for a moment having forgotten she is not alone until Niam stirs next to her. He raised himself, interest evidently picked although he sounded earnest instead of inquisitive when he asked her what she was afraid he would, "Who are you talking of?"

His question alone made her fully realize just what it is she had said out loud, she had allowed to slip passed her guard. Edúr forced herself to blink back the few tears that still threatened to spill out, saying as resolutely as she could, "No one." She knew she had sounded too forced and unconvincing when Niam tilted his head towards her and threw her an enquiring look, "Would that really be no one, or someone you will not tell me of?"

"No one. Truly, I spoke of no one in particular." She hastened to remove any doubt on that subject, heart hammering against her ribs as if she was lying. _But she was not_!

"If you say so." Niam eventually said, sounding more disappointed that she would not confide in him than genuinely reproachful.

"I do." She told him firmly, adding rather defensively because she somehow felt she had to, "You were the one that requested we talk of this topic, I merely felt compelled to give you my honest opinion."

"That I did. And you _have_. I _am_ thankful for your-" He paused as if to change what he was going to say, then went on with renewed zeal, "For your honest advice and perhaps even more so for the involuntarily given admission that followed it."

Edúr watched as her cousin got to his feet, the mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes unmistakably kind and harmless but his evident suspicion nevertheless causing that wriggling sensation in her stomach to intensify tenfold.

"Goodnight, Edúr."

It took her seemingly an eternity to return his greeting, the phrase inadvertently conjuring up those images of the King taking back the coat she offered him as well as echoes of his low, reverberating voice that had said the exact same words what could not be more than an hour ago.

"Goodnight, Niam." She finally said, cursing the fact that her voice sounded anything but collected and under her control. Edúr waited for him to enter his bedchamber but when the door fell shut behind him she sank back into the sofa, wishing nothing more but to bury herself in the cushions, hide from her own thoughts and feelings, regardless of the little hope she could for all sleep had seemingly left her with no promise of returning anytime soon..

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The loud protesting creak of wood as he opened the door from his bedchamber did not drown the high pitched and somewhat panicked gasp that travelled from an elegant figure clad in black who was standing with shoulders hunched in apparent fright in the middle of the Royal Main Chamber. His Sister's unmistakable and instinctive outcry of despair was followed a split second later by the percussive sound of a dozen, cobalt blue beads that scattered across the marble floor. Panic filling her eyes as she watched in horror how the memory containing orbs seemingly fled away from her in every direction, Dís clasped a trembling hand to her mouth and sank to her knees.

Thorin immediately rushed forward, the sight of his beloved Sister's distress roughly wakening him from the confused tangle of thoughts and feelings that had kept him awake for most of the night. He had allowed his mind to be occupied by the fresh memory of his long talk with Edúr on the battlements last evening, and in doing so had once again been blind to the hurt he had caused his only living family member by dismissing her and her well-meant advice the day before yesterday. He should have considered her fragile state before addressing her so rudely, and in front of their Cousin Dáin too..

Careful not to tread on the smoothed and rounded beads that were strewn on the floor all around him he picked them up one by one and gathered them in the palm of his hand. It took considerable will power to complete the assiduous task and for a prolonged moment not yet respond to the soft sobs Dís let out. Finally he had collected all of them and Thorin cautiously approached his Sister. He hesitated for another moment but then her half-repressed wail of agony made him crouch down in front of her and throw one arm around her shaking shoulders. Making sure he did not upset the precarious balance of the beads in his cupped hand that were stapled like a strange mockery of a haphazard pyramid he clutched them to his chest then leaned forward so his forehead rested against his Sister's.

Slowly but surely her irregular and hitched breathing calmed down because of the soothing gesture and soon she let out a long and deep sigh which seemingly also succeeded in somewhat stemming the flow of her tears that had up to that moment streamed freely down her cheeks. Grateful for her distress to have subsided even if but a little and but temporarily, Thorin straightened again, the expression of misery that marred Dís' looks cutting him to the core.

"Brother..." She pleaded for the continuation of his tangible support, an emotional wobble pushing her voice up mid-word and making her raise again her lowered hand to stifle an oncoming wail.

"I am sorry, Sister.." He hastily apologized, swallowing down a lump in his throat, "I should not have spoken to you the way that I did. Your advice was sound. As it always is. And what is more you spoke from your heart. Honestly and altruistically. I and I alone have caused you to lose your loved ones, and yet you still.. You still care for me." He cast down his eyes upon seeing the mix of intense hurt and unwavering loyalty reflected in his Sister's, barely able to force out the rest of that sentence, " _E nadad-zi_ , _ak e abluna astî_.."

"No, Thorin. _Astu ma abluna e_. You are not to blame-"

He shook his head vehemently, he could not bear hearing how she of all Dwarves was willing to absolve him of this burning guilt, "I took your sons away from you, you lost them the moment I allowed them to come with me on the quest.."

"They wanted to come." Dís countered with equal fervor, "They had to. They are Durin's Sons, how could they stay behind when you set off to reclaim our Homeland? Nothing could have stopped them, not even you or I.. After all, they grew up on tales of the Mountain, this was supposed to be their Keep too.." There was a heart wrenching despondency mingling with her words and she lowered her gaze as if in acquiescent defeat, "I would not have forgiven myself for stopping them. Staying behind would have stifled them. It stifled _me_.." Her voice broke but she went on before Thorin could say anything to stop her from embarking further on this road of self-hurt, "I felt chained to the Blue Mountains, knowing the perilous journey you had set out on.. But then I realized where my duty lied. It was with our people, _my_ people, and I owed to them to ensure their lives would go on as they had in your absence. After all, being of Royal Blood inevitably means that we are responsible for not just our own family, but for all families in our Keep. I may regret many things, I may wish that fate had been kinder to me but I have always understood what my duty is.. And I take pride in never having failed to perform it yet."

A surge of respect went through him upon perceiving the fiery glint in his Sister's eyes and the watery smile that curved her lips ever so slightly, "And I have always admired you for it, Sister. You possess far greater strength than I could ever dream of having."

"You are strong, Brother. More so than Grandfather. More so than Father.. They may have fallen. _You_ may have fallen, but you will get up again if you but accept the hand that reaches out to you. Accept that you cannot, and do not have to do this alone.."

Thorin stiffened, a feeling of uneasiness stirring within him now he had not failed to pick up on Dís' subtle insinuation, "I will not marry so that my wife is reduced to having to nurse me as she would a withered, old Dwarf." He gritted out, voice resolute though he did not doubt his stung pride had made it sound almost vengeful to her ears for her pleading and hopeful expression instantly morphed into one of annoyed impatience.

"Oh why do you have to be so stubborn, Brother!? Why, an owl listens to advice more readily than you do, wise as she already is.. By Durin's beard even a mule would be guided more easily and with less bucking and prancing!"

"I know you mean well, but.." Thorin started, trying hard to remain calm and not lose control of his temper this time no matter how much their current conversation riled him.

"But what?" Dís pressed him, sounding more exasperated than angry that he would not allow her council on the subject to penetrate his -in her eyes- stubborn refusal to accept help. Thorin opened his mouth but a strong feeling of sadness mingled with shame seemed to block his throat and no words came out at first. He sighed, eventually saying rather tersely, "It is nothing."

"Thorin-"

"Let us not talk of it anymore, now certainly is not the time. You bear too heavy a burden already, I will not have you increase its weight by worrying about my failing as King by not being remotely inclined to wed any Dwarrowdam, however much in need of an Heir we are. That burden is mine and mine alone to bear." He briefly let his hand rest on her shoulder, making her look up to him, the defiant spark in her eyes inciting him to say in a softer but not less stern tone, "Promise me you will let it rest?

A sigh passed her lips and she eventually nodded, albeit reluctantly, adding afterwards somewhat ominously yet still sincere, "For now.."

Thorin inclined his head in gratitude, knowing this was as much a concession as he was going to receive from her at this point. It did not yet settle the restless stirring in his chest but he hoped it would be enough to ban those irrational thoughts that had recently so plagued his mind. He did not want to find out if the Dwarven traditions had truth in them, that there really was One he was destined to love. After all, what good would it do to contemplate that overly romantic notion when he was King and he had to wholly dedicate himself to ruling Erebor. His heart was not his own. It belonged to the those he ruled. There was no point in yearning to find her, especially when it was better that he did not. How could he offer her anything but misery in his current state? There was no guarantee he would not succumb in the end to the same Sickness that had taken over both his Grandfather and Father. That was why he could not marry. Why it was best he did not produce an Heir. Why he prayed to _Mahal_ he had not found her already. Begged him that it could not be _her_..

He pulled himself out of his brooding, feeling this was what he had to do to frequently of late, and swallowed hard as he watched his Sister visibly grow sad again, her heart and thoughts no doubt returning to her grief, making her sink back in a state of languid sorrowfulness. Tears started to spill out her eyes again and she brought a trembling hand to her mouth, "Oh, _Mahal_ , I miss them.. _So much_.."

At last he gave in to the instinct to comfort her and Thorin closed his fingers over the memory beads in his hand before wrapping her up in his arms. As he held her tight in his embrace he felt the cold and hard orbs dig into his palm, realizing how, in line with an ancient type of Dwarven tradition, each of them held a precious memory of their family, of their lost loved ones much like rune stones contained promises. He felt his own eyes moistening at the thought of the unbearable loss of Fíli and Kíli and increased his grip on the collection of beads, swearing inwardly to himself he would do all in his power to honor and protect their memory. To console and protect their Mother until the end of his days..

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~Thanks for Reading & I'd love to know what you think! (^-^b)~

 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _'_ " _E nadad-zi_ , _ak e abluna astî_.." = "I am your brother, but I failed you."

"… _Astu ma abluna e_." = "You did not fail me."

 _As always, all the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_

 **A/N: Just wanted to let you know I'm already finishing up writing the next chapter so I expect to be able to post that this week!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: So… I realize my posting has been a little irregular lately,.. Sorry about that! My exam period will kick off pretty soon though and, as warped as this probably sounds, to me that mostly means less classes (which in turn means less commuting to uni) and so more time to write/post! Yaay, I'm so excited about that even though I really should focus on studying haha! ;) Anyway, I hope you'll all stay with me as I try to pick up the pace and post more often again! :D Thanks to those who faved/followed my story!**

 _Robinbird79:_ I know, right? There's something irresistible about those stubborn dwarves that I can't seem to stop wanting to write about them! ;) Dís will definitely keep reminding her brother of the feelings she is trying to name for him seeing he's refusing to do so, openly at least ;p Thanks for the review!

 _Angie:_ Being hopelessly romantic deep down I just couldn't resist this whole idea of dwarves having One true love in their life, I guess now it's up to Thorin and Edúr to start admitting what they feel to each other but as you know this is a slow burn romance story so we're not quite there yet... ;) And yes, I have a huge amount of respect for Dís, she's harboring grief for so many lost loved ones: her grandfather, father, husband and now her sons too. She's a very interesting character to me and I'm glad you're feeling for her just as I do :) Thank you once again for your review!

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 **Disclaimer:** Unfortunately I still haven't convinced Tolkien/PJ to give me the rights to the Hobbit and all of the characters belonging to it… But there's always hope! ;)

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 **Chapter XXII**

SHE had found herself on the losing end of an increasingly more tenacious struggle with the laces on one of the ankle-high boots, when there was a knock on the door. The rap on the dark wood was so firm and decisive that it reduced the resounding echoes of that single sound to needless additions in order to rouse her attention. Weight resting on one knee, Edúr let out a frustrated grumble and pouted her lips so she could blow the strands of hair out of her face with a well-aimed, irritated puff of air. There was another knock, a repetition of that same purposeful sound.

"Yes?!" She called out, her tone as impatient as she felt. Around this time it could only be Niam returning from his work in the smithery and so it did not make any sense for him to knock. Normally he would swing the doors wide open and claim that the fact he had bathed his body could somehow compensate for the not so equally rubbed clean state of his rather ragtag clothes. The deep and gravelly voice that drifted through the door after her curt response, however, instantly brought a color to her cheeks, "May I come in?"

"Y-yes!" Her hurried permission had hardly left her mouth when she realized her appearance was far from suitable to face the Dwarf now pushing open the door. She quickly retracted her fingers from the tangled knot her shoelaces had become and barely had time to stand up and once again blow her hair out of her line of vision before Thorin appeared. Her awkwardness alone, along with the way her hands had obviously just been busy tugging desperately at the girdle to get it back into its rightful place and have her wrinkled dress once again flow down to her ankles, made him briefly narrow his eyes.

"Forgive me, I fear I might have disturbed you-" He started, one foot remaining on the threshold.

"No! No indeed, you have not." She blurted out, though perhaps rather unconvincingly for Thorin visibly hesitated to enter. He very subtly tilted his head in doubt, gaze straying over the disarray of her one shoe that clearly had been causing her trouble.

"Please, come in." Edúr told him, not sure why she wanted to persuade him to stay now he seemed of a mind to leave her again so soon -if only out of consideration for her privacy it seemed- but she extended her arm and motioned for him to sit down on the sofa. The gesture, however brief, finally made him decide to come in.

"Very well." Thorin said a little solemnly, nodding his approval for her to sit down herself while he strolled towards the hearth instead. He did not look at her directly, his back half turned towards her and pretending to be of a mind to poke the fire, all as if to give her a moment to adjust her skirt so it covered her shoes, in particular the wayward laces on one of them. Grateful for that small but thoughtful act of gallantry, Edúr sat down and ran a hand over her dress to smooth out the creases and rearrange the folds around her. She had almost finished braiding her hair when she thought she could see him observe her without appearing to do so from the corner of his eye. Suddenly self-conscious of her vain attentions to her appearance she abandoned the attempt to somehow make her hair look presentable and let her hands rest in her lap. Although Thorin took it as a sign that she no longer required his polite and momentary withdrawal, he remained silent for a moment longer, prompting her to rack her brain for a reason for his unannounced visit. At last he took a step in her direction and away from the fireplace, casting an investigative glance around the room and remarking after clearing his throat, "Your Raven is away?"

Not expecting that piece of information to be of any interest to him, Edúr simply nodded in response to his enquiry. It was discomfiting that the last time they had talked she had been more than capable of forming sentences but now her mind seemed completely devoid of things to say and yet incredibly crowded with thoughts at the same time.

"I am quite safe, then?" He quipped with a somewhat restrained lightness but something suspiciously close to a smile worked its way to his eyes which practically twinkled because of it. Although she truly appreciated the lack of vengefulness now he was referring to Morkai's overly protective assault on him in the Royal Chambers that day when she had been foolish enough to end up on the slippery ice -and in turn in the arms of the Dwarf now addressing her-, what he had said struck a chord within her and she was unable to answer him straight away. _Safe_... As she repeated the word to herself it sounded so tentative and fragile that she could not keep the gravity now filling her entire being at bay. Nor could she help but to have it remind her of the dream that had made her startle awake last night, sweating and gasping for air. In it she had seen her father succumb to a rabble of Orcs that had dragged him out of sight while she herself had not been able to move a muscle no matter how desperately she wanted to give chase. And the task he had set her that fateful day now moons past, the reason for her and Niam's coming to Erebor, had returned in full force.

"It is the one thing I fear you are not." She lifted her downcast eyes to lock with his, the previous mirth had fled from them as he instantly understood the meaning of what she was saying. But she could not have stopped herself. She could not now deny the sincere worry that she felt as she realized he was still, in fact, in constant danger as long as the lingering but not less real threat of Gundabad remained unchecked. With a slightly uncomfortable knot tightening in the region of her stomach, Edúr pushed aside her doubts on the subject, after all it was only natural to feel anxious about protecting him seeing he was King, vital to the survival of her race and for rebuilding Erebor. Fate had merely decided she was apparently the one that had to make sure the last direct descendant of Durin would not pay for Kazar's lust for revenge with his life. There could not be any personal motivations in the matter. There _were_ not any. The fact that she had yet to fulfill her father's last request weighed far heavier than any duty she may or may not have grown to feel towards Thorin..

"Have you given it any more thought?" She probed, knowing there was no need to name their enemies' Fortress, the look of alertness on his face told her that his thoughts had run their course back to Gundabad too.

"I have." He replied earnestly, hands clasping behind his back as he took a few more steps in her direction. Before she could put her next question into words, however, he forestalled the need for it by shaking his head once, "No. I cannot risk sending warriors or even scouts there now. They would not get far and the road is too hazardous. If I do, I feel I need to go with them. I need to go myself. Would you really advice me to hasten and risk the winter?"

Edúr grinded her teeth but bit back on the words that had gathered on her tongue. Uttering them and her frustration in doing so would not gain her anything. Moreover, how could she deny the validity of that unspoken statement? The North was impenetrable at this time of the year, no Dwarf -regardless of how weathered and seasoned a Warrior he may be- would even make it to within a day's journey of her Keep..

Thorin halted only a few paces from her, assuring her with a determined glint reflected in his gray eyes, "Rest assured that my guards look in every direction, if Gundabad should send as much as a fly in our direction, I would know of it long before they reach the gate.."

It was too tempting not to give in to his contagious conviction and Edúr, although still with a little stubborn reluctance, let out a resigned sigh while her hands enveloped each other in her lap as she wrung them together. The restless movement, no matter how absentmindedly performed, was enough for him to speak in a completely different tone, one sounding unmistakably regretful, "I realize I cannot make you stay. Not against your will, I know I have not that right.." For a moment he seemed to struggle with that very thought he had just voiced, but then Edúr corrected her foolish assumption and instead assumed he was merely contemplating what more he needed, or simply wanted, to say to her. Eventually making up his mind he spoke again, a pleading edge to his words, "If you must go than please wait for the land to thaw, for the snow to melt. And let me come with you to your Keep. You cannot go on your own."

"I know.." Her calm admission visibly relieved him, making her briefly wonder why, but the seemingly satisfied rumbling sound that he made in the back of his throat effectively robbed her once again of the ability to form coherent sentences. Unaware of this, Thorin released his hands from the firm grasp with which he had had them rest on his back and sat down next to her. But all too aware that he had consciously left a respectful distance between them, Edúr nonetheless stirred at his closeness, somehow it was harder than it should be to stare into the flames raging in the hearth now he was here with her, especially after he had so fervidly told her he did not want her to set out on her own when he knew she would eventually have to travel back to her Keep. _She needed to know if there was truly no hope for her father_..

Her bleak thoughts threatened to circle her mind like crows would above a carcass but they did not get the chance when Thorin broke the silence between them, "Please, do not think I am not aware of the great sacrifice of you and your Clan in this.. Nor mistake my intentions. I will avenge them. _We_ will avenge them.."

"You do take the threat serious then?" She pressed him despite a sense of guilt surging through her at her own weary skepticism, but she wanted to remove all doubts on that score once and for all.

"I do. I _did_. Though I realize it took me a while to admit it. I apologize for that." Was his honest reply, making her nod both in acceptance and relief. Edúr could feel his gaze rest upon her as he continued to look at her sideways, "Will you stay?" He asked, her silence apparently making him anxious to ascertain this, as if he suspected - _or feared_?- her thoughts had been affixed on leaving, adding in a lowered voice that sounded uncharacteristically fragile, "Or will you go?"

The tremor in his voice made her inadvertently think back of those moments when she had been in his presence and the Gold had been heavy on his mind, but there was no feverish quality to it now. His eyes were slightly narrowed and unwaveringly fixed on her, as if searching for a hint in hers of what she was thinking before she would answer him.

"I have nowhere else to go.." She told him truthfully, unable to read to subtle difference in his expression although it almost seemed that a sadness crept into those dark gray orbs and his shoulders sagged somewhat, "But even so, I do not wish to leave."

The unmistakable relief that seemed to spread through him at her last words released no small amount of the same sensation within her, something which only increased as he said with heartfelt sincerity, "I do not wish to make you feel like Erebor is your prison. It is why I came to ask if you would join me on my visit to the city of New Dale."

"You would allow me to join you?" Edúr exclaimed, genuinely surprised at the offer. It was one thing to move around freely within the Mountain. But to leave it, even if only for one day... Again there was that somewhat pained expression briefly flashing across his face, but Thorin was quick to repress the emotion that seemingly came with it, "I meant what I said. I truly wish for you to feel less trapped in the Mountain as you so obviously do.." He sounded more hurt than bitter but again he pushed whatever feeling plagued him aside, "Dale is only a short ride from here but my duties require me to stay for the day. I hoped- That is, I thought you would welcome the chance to look at it up close. Perhaps even more so to see for yourself a place very different from the city of Erebor."

"Then I will come with you. Not to flee one place but rather to explore another." Edúr told him, barely able to contain the joy she felt at the prospect.

"I am glad of it." The smile that curved his lips and bared those neat rows of white teeth effectively took her breath away and she was strangely glad he did not seem to notice this now he got to his feet. She inclined her head to him as he bowed in something between reverence and respect, then took his leave. Edúr remained where she was, continuing to stare at the door long after it had closed behind Thorin. Her tangled shoelaces were reduced to a problem no longer capable of ruining her mood as it had done before and her imagination was already traveling to that other city close by -on the very threshold even- of the one she increasingly felt more a part of. The Keep, although not her own, she would really feel loath to one day have to leave again..

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The Dwarf sitting left of him thoughtfully stroked his white, forked beard, the tankard with ale he held in his other hand completely forgotten. For a moment he seemed unable to utter a word and instead stared into nothingness until he roused himself from his pensiveness with a slight shake of the head as if in disbelief. Brows knitted in worry Balin finally tilted his head to the side, "You should have told me you were going down there again. Alone with the Lady Edúr.." His voice trailed off and he briefly shook his head again.

Despite his trusted friend's understandable concern, Thorin bristled at his words. He abandoned the attempt to take a swig from his own pewter-cast mug and irritably shoved it away from him. "I would never hurt her." He stated through clenched teeth, both hands balling into fists resting on the gnarled surface of the food laden table.

"I know. But you have not been yourself at times. Especially.." Balin paused, stirring in his seat and eventually letting out a grumbling sigh, "That treasure hoard is cursed, Thorin, who knows what you might have done under its influence.. You could have harmed her-"

"Balin." Thorin stopped him short, his voice curt and grave before he repeated with even stronger conviction, "I would _never_ hurt her."

At this Balin frowned, not questioningly but concerned, until he nodded solemnly. The old Dwarf dropped his earnest gaze and hummed a rather forlorn _hmmm_ when his heavy thoughts seemed to claim his attention again. Glad for the reprieve from his councilor's well meant but rather guilt inducing questioning, Thorin leaned back in his chair, making the wood creak a little as he shifted his weight. He forced himself to let the tension that had gathered in his body seep away, pushing aside that particularly restless and heavy feeling that seemed to have nestled right in his gut from the moment he had told Balin about what had happened. Normally he would not have confessed and subsequently discussed such a moment of weakness in the presence of the Company, but the racket some of its most raucous members were producing tonight had provided him with the perfect opportunity to confide in Balin. If he was honest with himself than he knew, deep down, that the time for refusing to talk about the Spell he was still under had long since past. Moreover, now that Dís had been too tired to attend dinner as she was not sleeping well -something which troubled him greatly- he was somewhat relieved that at least by talking only to his old friend he would not have to burden his Sister with it. Not tonight. Not ever again. He would never forget how he had found her sunk to her knees in the midst of her scattering memory beads and was resolved to keep her out of it.

With a somewhat self-reproaching and bitter grin pulling on his lips, Thorin realized he had balled his hands into fists again. He brought one to rest under his chin, stretching out his fingers of the other to wrap themselves around his mug of ale. Not really inclined to drink he instead watched how Bofur -standing on his chair that wobbled under him- started to juggle with food, the eyes of more than half the Company on him. His cousin Bifur had gotten to his feet too and kept up a steady supply of slippery boiled eggs, baked apples dripping caramel and freshly baked bread rolls, throwing them in a high arc in his direction whenever the floppy-hatted miner had passed on a piece of food with an upward swing of his elbow to his rotund sibling who swallowed everything whole without choking on it. Sitting next to Bombur, Dori was daintily dipping his mouth with an embroidered napkin which, Thorin suspected, was also used to hide the fact that he was enjoying the entertainment as much as the others though he practically winced when his youngest brother emitted a loud belching sound, much to Nori's amusement. Oín and Gloín, meanwhile, were too much engrossed in their own somewhat hushed conversation to pay any attention to Bofur's juggling act, though the red-haired Dwarf was seemingly growing more and more annoyed at having to repeat himself to his older Brother, looking every inch ready to sling the damn thing away when he had Oín's battered ear trumpet almost thrust up his nose on several occasions.

Thorin let his gaze roam further across the room until it rested on Dwalin and Daín, both standing near the fireplace, one arms crossed in front of his broad chest as was his habit and the other twisting the pointed tip of his tusk-like moustache as he listened to the seasoned warrior standing opposite him. The two of them were still discussing army matters by the looks of it. Thorin had left them not too long ago after having informed them of his decision to increase patrols, double the watch on the rampart above the gate as well as commit more warriors to scout a little farther away from the Mountain than they had already been doing up to now. He could not deny that his conversation with Edúr had made him realize that perhaps he was not doing enough to counter the possible threat coming from the North. Perhaps he finally needed to come to terms with the fact that their hard won peace was still fragile at best and that he really could not afford to acknowledge the potential danger Gundabad could hold but to fail to act on it.

Movement in his periphery vision made Thorin turn his attention back to the other end of the table. Both Nori and his apprentice, Niam, had joined Bifur and were expertly and with much enthusiasm hurling food at Bofur who was seriously challenged to keep all of it in the air. Despite his older Brother's feigned indifference to the scene and his somewhat sly and unconvincing glare in his direction, Ori was clapping and broadly smiling, his cheeks a rosy pink by now from all the excitement. Thorin had to exert some will power not to smile too when his eyes finally found the one face he suspected he had been looking for. Though most had not noticed, Edúr had come in late, quietly taking her place among the Company, all of whom seemed to have accepted her presence among them a long time ago. Thorin hoped it had not been because of their conversation. Well. Because of their discussion concerning Gundabad. He truly understood her reluctance to seemingly wait idly and naively in the face of danger, but he was glad they had come to a temporary truce of some kind regarding that topic.

Taking in her face, those bright blue eyes lit up from witnessing the merriment around her and her amber hair having acquired a warm glow from the flickering light of the fire some paces behind her, Thorin was pleased he had given in to the impulse prompting him to ask her to join him on his trip to New Dale. He had convinced himself that it would do her good to leave the Mountain for a bit and, as much as he felt like he was very much where he belonged here in the City of Erebor, he himself felt in need of a change of scenery. Of course, he also simply enjoyed her company and he longed to show her a different side of himself, but that was not what had motivated him the most. _It must not_..

There was a sudden silence that was rudely filled by another one of Ori's drawn-out belches which rather crudely woke him from his musings though a part of him was grateful for it since he felt he had been staring at a certain Dwarrowdam for too long already. He watched them a moment longer as Edúr patted the young, shyly giggling Dwarf whose older Brother threw him a disapproving look. Nori, on the other hand, was reduced to a hiccup-like snickering and doubled over while Niam tried not to give in to his laughter and continue tossing potatoes at Bofur. When his gaze threatened to return to the same face they had been glued to far too conspicuously already, Thorin finally tore it away and stared at the grooves running through the wooden surface of the table instead. He felt rather than saw Balin had come out of his pensive mood and was looking at him again.

"I feel.. I feel changed, like I am shedding skin and my old self is re-emerging." He told him in a low and somewhat careful voice, knowing that Balin was listening intently and had probably in fact expected him to continue their conversation after that long silence as if it had not been paused at all, "Or rather the new me is born. I feel.. _Different_.. _Stronger_.."

Thorin stirred uneasily, vexed by his apparent inability to find the right words and make himself understood. If he was honest with himself, though, than he was not sure what it was exactly that he was trying to say. As if on their own accord his eyes flitted back to the far corner of the table. Upon seeing her he once again felt a powerful surge go through him. _Was he a fool for hoping he would not have to fight that damnable curse on his own_..?

At that moment Bofur could no longer keep up with the increasing amount of food he was juggling and he exclaimed a cheerful _oy!_ when Nori had cheekily aimed for his head with a particularly huge potato. The miner wobbled precariously from one side to the next until he finally toppled over and crashed to the ground, all of the food that had been in the air raining down upon him though some apples rolled over the table, bowling over tankards and goblets along the way. Thorin could not repress a grin as he watched how Ori had ducked under the table to hide and Dori looked halfway between mortified and eager to join the food fight that ensued. But all too aware of his probably revealing smile Thorin found it nonetheless difficult to look away as Edúr raised her already emptied plate as a shield when Bofur lobbed a chunk of cheese her way.

He was still looking in her direction when Balin cleared his throat meaningfully, making him snap his head back to face him again, "Strong enough to think more favorably about making an announcement during the Coronation Ceremony?" He diplomatically picked up where they had left off.

"What kind of announcement?" Thorin grumbled back, suspicion raised though he had himself alone to blame for it.

"That now the Kingdom of Erebor is once more established, now its repairs are progressing and trade relations are being revived as we speak, your mind has turned to other matters. Or rather your heart has."

" _Hmpf_.." He huffed moodily, not caring that the exasperation aimed at his most trusted advisor might well not be entirely justified.

Not in the least bit discouraged it seemed, Balin sounded anything but defeated when he leaned forward, "I have to agree with your Sister, Thorin, the coronation could be the perfect occasion for you to announce your intentions."

"And what intentions would those be?" Thorin asked pointedly, heart rate increasing despite his efforts to not let himself be provoked into changing his stance on the subject his old friend was alluding to.

"That you intend to take a wife. Set a Queen on Erebor's throne." Balin's voice was now unmistakably tinged with a deeply felt pride and for a moment Thorin found it extremely difficult to not get distracted by the mesmerizing image this conjured up of a beautifully robbed figure taking her place on a majestic throne next to his -black and gold Crown resting on her hair, hand intertwined with his- and instead curtly replied with feigned indifference, "Do I?"

"The Coronation is still a moon away, it would not be rushing things to publicly make your intentions clear." Balin persisted patiently, "I am not suggesting you announce a betrothal, or that you are courting even, but merely to let your people know you are open to the idea."

"Let the Ladies of court know, you mean, I doubt any of the Guilds or the Company would think it their business, nor should they." He retorted gruffly.

"Everyone would see you happy, Thorin, Guilds and Company included. Happier than you are now. And there is no doubt in my mind that this would be far more likely if you just admit to yourself you may well have found your One-"

The intense glare he shot at the elder at once silenced him before he could finish that sentence. Thorin was more than a little unsettled at the strangely fierce anger rushing through him at this, making him instinctively straighten and biting out defensively, "Forgive me, but you make it sound as if you know me better than I know myself."

"Oh, in this case, I think I do." Balin countered wisely, eyes twinkling a little enigmatically as he got to his feet. Thorin could feel the heat rise to his face in either shame or some other silly emotion as his old friend patted him once on the shoulder and headed for Dwalin and Daín near the hearth, leaving him to wade around in his own utterly confusing thoughts.

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~Thanks for Reading & I'd appreciate it a lot if you left me a review! (^-^b)~

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 **A/N: I guess Balin is starting to meddle with Thorin's love life too just like Dís ;) So, next chapter will be Dale, or at least the road to it seeing that's taking up more space than I had planned for it.. Anyway, I'll post again by the end of next week at the latest!**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Greetings! Ok, so I wanted to have them actually reach and explore New Dale in this chapter but it got a little too big so I cut it in half. I'm writing the next chapter at the moment and am doing my best to edit out unnecessary details that somehow always make me deviate from the plot and sometimes I feel just as nervous and confused as Edúr does when I write a scene between the two from her POV.. that dwarf is simply too handsome to be written about, damn it! haha ;p Anyways, hope you'll enjoy this chapter and I'll update again soon! Thanks for everyone that's sticking with me and this story even though I feel it's so slow-paced compared to other Thorin/OC stories, really appreciate the support/favs/follows! Love you guys! :)**

 _Amadeusan: Thanks for your review! It totally made me blush when I read you love the story so far. For me reading your lovely review made my day better! :)This chapter covers their journey to New Dale and then I decided to end it there and next chapter will be slightly longer than usual as I'm trying to cram in as many Thorin/Edúr moments in New Dale as I can!_

 _Robinbird79: Haha I can just imagine Dís and Balin teaming up…Thorin won't know what hit him! ;) Thanks for the review!_

 _Angie: Thanks for your loyal reviewing of my story! I try to have the Company including Balin stay in character with how they are portrayed in the movies/book, I hope my depiction of them works for you and the other readers! And yes, Thorin is so stubborn that he can use all the help he can get from Dís and Balin… But don't give up on him yet, he'll learn to understand his own heart.. someday! Hihi ;)_

 _Sorrellkaren: Yes! I couldn't agree more! I wish I could go and see a new hobbit movie with our favorite and beloved dwarves every year but seeing that isn't likely to happen I guess I'll settle for rewatching the trilogy over and over again! :) I feel sorry for Thorin too but I just figured it would be out of character for him to instantly recognize the feelings he has for Edúr, I mean they're both way too stubborn for that haha But you're right, it won't take too long before he needs to speak what's in his heart, question is if and how the threat of Gundabad is going to mess things up/delay this 'cause your instinct is right on the money in that regard.. Ok and I should stop there, don't want to give away too many spoiler! ;p Thanks for your review!_

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 **Disclaimer:** Unfortunately I still haven't convinced Tolkien/PJ to give me the rights to the Hobbit and all of the characters belonging to it… But there's always hope! ;)

 **Chapter XXIII**

CLUTCHING his shriveled trumpet in one hand and burying it even deeper in his ear, Oín furrowed his bushy brows, eyes riddled with confusion. He leaned forward and there was an irritated quality to his voice, " _Miss.._? Miss _who_? I can't treat a patient who has no name, lad.." He looked around utterly confused in search for this mysterious Dwarrowdam and Thorin could not hold back a tired sigh.

"I was hoping that you could prepare a sleeping draft for _Dís_." He told the Dwarf again the reason for his coming, emphasizing his Sister's name to clear up the misunderstanding. His second attempt, however, made Oín's brows go up even higher so his forehead wrinkled and this time the old Healer took a faltering step back, looking strangely appalled at something, " _Kiss_?! Why, that's the strangest name I have ever heard. Though I do hope it is, I'm open to alternative healing methods but Durin's beard _that_ would be highly unorthodox-"

"Master Oín." Thorin felt compelled to rather gruffly cut the Dwarf off before he would finish that sentence. He took a deep, calming breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no choice but to repeat himself for what he sincerely hoped would be the final time.

"I am not suggesting new ways of curing your patients of their illnesses. I have come on behalf of my Sister. As you know she does not sleep well lately and I would like you to prescribe a light sleeping draft for Dís."

"Oh! For the Lady _Dís_!" Oín exclaimed, enunciating that last word the way a mother would correct a child, as if he had been the one at fault for not speaking clearly before, "why didn't you say so immediately! Could've saved us both some time.. I'm sure we're both busy enough to have made better use of it." He reproached him rather grumpily, vaguely waving a hand in the direction of the Main Ward of the Healing Wing where only a few Warriors with minor injuries were recuperating in their makeshift bunks. Thorin swallowed down his annoyance and instead simply inclined his head in something between gratitude and impatience before leaving the Healer to his work with a growing respect for his Master of Coins in having to deal with his partly deaf Brother on a daily basis.

Hoping he had not lost too much time he made his way further and further down the city. He was excessively relieved when, running into a group of Nobles, he really could not lose another moment to stop and perform his duty of striking up and prolonging a tedious conversation on even more trite topics. At least his politicians, no matter how conniving they could also be, had the decency to complain openly and directly to his face. Moreover, he was particularly glad to escape the Ladies instantly flocking to their husband's sides while pushing their Daughters, Nieces or Wards in his direction in the hopes of a closer look, a glance in their direction perhaps or -Mahal forbid- a compliment no matter how forced and, in most cases, wholly contradictory to his true thoughts. It was why he was far from fond of having to pay them. Without so much as a bow or a backward glance he strode passed all of them, not caring about the irritated whispers and indignant tutting this prompted among the heavily braided, diamond-wearing Dwarrowdams -young and old alike- in their overly trimmed and frilly dresses. Nor did he regret having stopped midsentence one or two of the conceited Dwarrow Lords that had attempted to get his attention no doubt to extend with a lot of pompous air a dinner party invitation he would no sooner accept than he would thank on his knees that dratted Woodland Elvenking for saving his li- _No_. That embarrassing knowledge should have no power over him. Not today. There were more important matters to attend to.

Thorin increased his pace, glad to have gotten rid off the lesser members of his Court, and with relative ease too. A small part of him did feel he was failing as a King in not being the most sociable of Dwarves, though he doubted not that the haughty Dwarrowdams had been -if this was possible- even more disapproving of his present attire than of his rude behavior. The clothes he wore were hardly reflecting his position within the Mountain and made him look more like a Laborer instead of their Ruler of Royal Blood, but he didn't mind. If he was going to accompany his traders to New Dale there was no need for ostentatious display of wealth through wearing expensive robes and heirlooms. In fact, he felt so much freer in his movements as he increased his pace and turned corner after corner, descended stairs after stairs, that he wondered whether it really was just his change of clothes or if there was something else that made him feel this way. Stepping through the Gate and onto the arched bridge he soon spotted the caravan, no more than a handful of two-wheeled carts with Goats in front restlessly scraping their hoofs on the cold stone below, all but ready to leave. He realized that light feeling must also be due to the prospect of leaving the Mountain behind with the knowledge he would be glad to return to it later. It was a liberating sensation. Right now, as he nodded to Balin and Gloín already waiting for him before moving to the head of the column to help a Dwarf with fastening one of the saddlebags, he blended in with the Traders, Laborers and Merchants. He was no less but also no more vital to the success of this trip than they and their carts with goods, materials and gifts were. For one day he truly would be the King he felt he wanted to be. A leader among his kin, not above them.

The sound of the heavy gates falling into place made him look up from the strap he was readjusting and freeze in his movements. For a moment he could only take in what was undeniably the very beguiling form of one of the two Dwarves coming their way. She was dressed in a beautiful mantle of soft blue with white fur adorning the lapels and her amber hair spilled out from under her hood, not like bouncy curls but as smooth waves which rippled as she walked. The beauty of fire and water combined. Still. That clash of colors was not even remotely as powerful as the sparkling of her eyes and the steadfast look with which she returned his entrapped stare. Thorin only just managed to repress a rising panic when he found himself at a loss to trace the source of those blue orbs' radiance. Was it because of Ori next to her chattering away amiably? The anticipation of visiting New Dale? Or was it the same reason as his? To breathe in air once again, fill his lungs with it, and not be confined inside of Erebor..

They were coming closer, the young Scribe and Edúr, the first with his charcoal pencil seemingly forgotten behind his ear and the latter's mantle swaying with her movement so he unintentionally caught a glimpse of the garment underneath. She wore a simple dress, not like the ladies he had passed on his way down here, all glittering and showy like a magpie's nest. It was a subtle cream colored dress with a hint of that same daisy blue as her coat under that, the laces of the top layer tied loosely over the one below. Somehow she wore it with a kind of practical elegance he found intriguing. More than that even.. Heat crept up on the sides of his neck at the thought and he finally averted his gaze back to the saddlebag in front of him. _What had gotten into him_? He had abandoned the task he had busied himself with the moment he had spotted her only to gape much like a Dwarrowling would marvel at everything new he encountered in his world. Thorin clenched his jaw, swallowing down the retort ready on his tongue when he saw Balin observe him from the corner of his eyes. His Councilor had obviously also been distracted from checking the long inventory list in his gloved hands that curled up just inches above the ground, though his eyes had seemingly strayed from himself to a certain Dwarrow maiden and back. Thorin ignored the knowing look he threw him and which he really was not in the mood for. He resolutely turned his back to his old friend, instead taking the lead and giving the order to move out in a voice that sounded strangely wavering even to his own ears.

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One hand quickly reaching up to hold on to the rim of her hood, Edúr soon forgot the icy blast that tugged at her hair and made her coat dance around her ankles. The moment Ori had stammered what must have been a password to the guards flanking the entrance to Erebor they had stepped into the cold world outside and her eyes were instantly drawn to a figure at the head of the small trade caravan. At first she had believed her eyes to deceive her but, decreasing the distance between them step by step, she recognized the black-haired Dwarf to indeed be no other than Thorin himself. She had never seen him like this. He was wearing a baggy, beige overcoat of rough wool, the crude material of which was mostly unadorned save for a few thick threads zigzagging in simple patterns across the sleeves and the folds running down from the open collar. Although the loose fitting garment was kept in place by a studded belt, it did not prevent his dark red and blue tunic from being visible. The sight somehow made her knees almost buckle and she felt suddenly lightheaded making her wonder whether she should have eaten more at breakfast though her present condition might not have anything to do with a lack of food in her belly. Edúr quickly lowered her gaze when, seemingly of their own accord, her eyes had roamed over his chest, lingering on the bare skin just under his collarbones as if hoping to find a hint there of the tattoo that had caught her attention once before. Instead she briefly took in his patched trousers, sturdy boots and weather stained cloak that frayed at them hem before bending all of her attention to rather clumsily pulling on her gloves for warmth.

It would not do, all too soon her eyes flitted back to Thorin. She was amazed at how different he looked. And yet. Despite the lack of his Crown, of a fur-lined robe and exquisitely woven and stitched tunic, he still exuded regality. Even now he had the unmistakable bearing of a King, there was power in his silence and stance as well as an intense authority shining in his gray eyes that were so much lighter as they reflected the white world of snow around. Edúr had been on the verge of finally tearing her gaze away from him fearing he would think it strange if she did not when he rather abruptly turned away from her and continued finishing up some last preparations by the looks of it. Having neared him to a few paces she realized he was fastening the strap of a saddlebag and could not help but notice he had even refrained from wearing any jewelry that would normally befit his status as Ruler as well as being a member of the Royal Family. Instead he wore but one, roughly hewn stone in a broad ring and leather bands around both wrists. Only the rune inscribed beads in his subtle braids were an indication of his true position within the Mountain. Edúr was hardly aware anymore of Ori walking next to her, keeping up a steady stream of comments relating to the weather and the day ahead, though it did not make her less grateful for the young Dwarf's friendship. Ever since they had started working together on the South Wing he had opened up little by little and lately really seemed to have overcome his habitual shyness.

Nevertheless, Edúr had just absentmindedly replied to her companion's inquiries if she was feeling unwell or too cold when Balin called him over from the other side of the cart ahead of them. Mumbling a heartfelt apology Ori excused himself, assuring her he would return to her side as soon as possible and left to join the white-haired Dwarf. The next moment she heard Thorin's deep and booming voice giving the order to leave and the caravan slowly started to move. Seeing that Balin had engaged Ori in checking off things on a long roll of parchment he held up in his hands, she simply kept walking alongside the cart to her right, now and then catching snippets of the conversations that Warriors, Merchants and Traders exchanged. She almost stopped in her tracks when she caught a movement up ahead and it only turned out to be Thorin who had glanced over his shoulder only to snap his head back just as fast when she looked in his direction. Next instant she felt the tip of a metal plated boot make contact with her heel, causing a searing pain to shoot through it. Edúr mentally reproached herself for having halted so suddenly. The Guard behind her grunted a curt but not less genuine apology to which she nodded in acceptance then winced as she hurried to make up for the gap she had allowed to widen between her and the cart. Fortunately the pain was already subsiding and she was sure her wandering thoughts alone would make her quickly forget about it altogether. She was still in the middle of pondering on Thorin's uncharacteristic behavior when, to her surprise, she heard his voice much closer than she thought he would be as he addressed one of the Warriors that were escorting the caravan.

As she looked up she saw that he had fallen back a little and was now but an arm's length ahead of her. Having very recently learned her lesson of how stupid it would be to give in to the instinctive reflex to halt now he was suddenly so much nearer, Edúr instead kept up her steady pace and tried to look anywhere but at him. Once again it seemed that today her eyes had a will of their own and they strayed to Thorin's back not too long after the Warrior's dutiful replies to his inquiries had apparently satisfied him enough so that he had fallen silent again. Not expecting him to look over his shoulder at her again, Edúr was immensely glad she managed just in time not to trip over her own feet when he did. This time though it seemed as if his eyes deliberately sought hers and he briefly held her gaze, the ghost of a tentative smile playing across his face before he looked in front of him again. The moment, no matter how short, was enough to make her feel inexplicably restless and she hardly trusted herself when she thought he had slowed down a bit on purpose as if to invite her to walk next to him. Not wanting to be rude, and she told herself sternly that was the only reason for her decision, she took a few larger strides and soon after fell into step next to him.

Edúr did not look at him directly, instead focusing on Ori's somewhat hunched shoulders as he was talking to Balin, both still engrossed by the long list fluttering in the wind and seemingly at risk of tangling with the older Dwarf's beard.

"I never understood how he could walk, read and talk at the same time." Thorin next to her remarked, apparently he had followed her gaze, "It is one of the many reasons why I value him so much as my Councilor."

"It is a rare skill, I think." Edúr agreed, tilting her head to face him though for some reason she was not sure she could look him directly in his eyes so instead she let her own rest on his worn overcoat. She only realized it had not escaped him how she observed his clothes, possibly reminding him of how she had shamelessly done so before setting out, when he cleared his throat and said sounding slightly unsure, "I must beg your forgiveness for my appearance. I am aware you must think me more appropriately dressed to pass for the Blacksmith I once was."

Not expecting and blaming herself for prompting this apology, Edúr instantly stared at her own feet instead. She silently shook her head and bit her lower lip as she thought about what she could possibly say to convince him she had not been feeling this way at all. There was no way she could express herself too freely though, for how could she confess to the jolt that had gone through her when she had first seen him upon stepping outside?

"Do not worry about offending me. I am not vain nor would I blame you for stating the truth."

Grateful for his effort to assure her he was in fact not uncomfortable with her having noticed his considerable difference in attire, Edúr returned his calm gaze, "Which would not be that I disapprove of your clothes but rather that I am certain no one could doubt you are our leader whatever you wore."

"Our?" His tone was one of genuine astonishment even though he seemingly lowered his voice in a conscious attempt to restrain that particular sensation.

Edúr felt her cheeks burn now he had picked up on that detail which she had unconsciously let slip, "Well, I-1.. I only meant.. That is.." She tried to explain herself rather unsuccessfully.

"Please, do not be uneasy. I was merely surprised at your choice of words. But it pleases me that you said it thus."

Edúr merely inclined her head in his direction still feeling a little awkward. _Mahal_.. Why did he have to notice a subtlety like that in the words that rolled off her tongue without her knowing most of the time what it was she had implied? It was making her nervous when there really was no need to be.

Next to her Thorin still seemed to contemplate what she had said but he broke the silence again after a while, the corner of his mouth slightly quirked, "And here I was hoping I wouldn't appear as such. As your leader." He admitted still somewhat ponderingly and it did not escape her notice how he had used that particular pronoun with something sounding close to satisfaction, "I had, in fact, entertained hopes of going unnoticed by most today. That I could enjoy the walk as any other Dwarf without having to ride in front catching all the wind." He elaborated, any remaining pensiveness dissolving as his smile broke through fully at this point, "The scenery is better from over here too. As is the company."

Edúr did not even attempt to hold back her own grin as she followed his feigned disapproving gaze to the pair of stern looking guards walking in front of the caravan though she was not sure she could read the change in it when he let it rest on her again. His last comment too, when it finally and wholly sank in, made her stomach instantly flutter uncontrollably even though she could not be sure he had not simply been referring to the two armored Dwarves. Before she could ponder longer on this, which would only increase that tumbling feeling that was highly confusing to say the least, the sight of the two guards inevitably also reminded her of the need there was for them in protecting the King.

"Though I am sure their taciturn disposition is due to the fact that they have been burdened with the most tedious of tasks seeing I refuse to have others sacrifice themselves or face risks that are mine and mine alone." Thorin added in response to her unspoken question, apparently he had had not trouble in interpreting the frown that had started to crease her forehead.

"I doubt that was the reasoning applied by those that assigned the guards to you." Edúr pointed out cleverly, chin tilted to the other side in an instinctive desire to somehow hide at least a part of her broad smile.

"No. I confess it was not." He admitted, voice lightened with amusement. She felt Thorin's shoulder bump gently against hers as he leaned closer conspiratorially, "Which is why I would appreciate it if you did not mention this to the head of my personal Guard, or the Council members for that matter, I had trouble enough as it is convincing them to let me leave with so few warriors among us."

Edúr narrowed her eyes and bit her lower lip to hold in the laugh that had come bubbling to the surface as she imagined a row of severe looking Dwarves, arms crossed over their long beards as they stared disapprovingly down their crooked noses at their King and his plea to let him leave the Mountain.

"You are undecided on whether or not to betray me? Share your knowledge of my true opinion on the matter with my Council?" He all but whispered in a low rumble, his upper lip briefly lifting in a barely contained grin.

"No." She lightly shook her head and huffed back equally playful, taking herself by surprise that she possessed that tone but somehow the fact that he was close enough that she had felt his breath tickle her ear had undoubtedly emboldened her, "You can count on my secrecy, though I fear you are the only one to blame that despite the clothes you chose to wear you still look every bit a King."

There was a silence, not tense but tangible, and it did not take her long to trace the reason for it. Glancing sideways at Thorin she could see he was wearing a strange expression she had never before seen on his face. His eyes had widened somewhat and she could swear to have heard his breath hitch for a split second. It took all her willpower to swallow down a ridiculous sense of panic that had flared up inside of her as she quickly averted her gaze again. Far from an easy task now she realized she had all but admired him openly, she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times even though no sound yet came out. Thorin next to her stirred from his almost paralyzed state and softly cleared his throat, clearly on the verge of saying something. Before he could utter the words on his lips, Edúr hastily forced herself to overcome her incapacitating embarrassment.

"Have you often visited New Dale?" She asked him without making eye contact, instead scanning the old city awaiting them at the horizon though she hardly took the sight in and was but all too aware of the nervous wobble that had pushed her voice up midsentence.

It was obvious that he was somewhat taken aback by her sudden change of topic but she was almost jealous at how well he hid this particular sensation. Thorin cleared his throat with a soft rumble as if to find his voice or ready it so it came out collected and calm when he answered her, "Not as often as I would like. In fact I have not been there above twice, though the Lord Bard who is now Master of the city sends me word of the progress they are making every week. After the Battle.." He paused, seemingly struggling with continuing but then explained earnestly, "My wounds restricted how much I could move around. I did not leave the Mountain that first Moon. Nor have I done this more than a handful of times since and mostly to the encampment of Dáin's army from the Iron Hills, just behind the Mountain's Eastern base. I do regret my lack of travelling a bit further for I feel it is vital I do not lose touch with the reality of what is going on in this region. It is all too easy to stop seeing clearly behind the thick walls of Erebor."

Edúr shivered slightly in guilt now a cold bitterness had crept into his voice but before she could say anything he went on, apparently bolstered by the large walls of New Dale which came closer and grew in size every purposeful step they took, "I am hopeful for the future but it cannot be denied these are still hard times, for all of us. Knowing how our allies fare is of the utmost importance. I only wish I could witness it myself more often but duties require me to stay within the Mountain most of the time. For now at least. It won't change until the Keep built by my forbearers truly thrives once more.."

He looked back over his shoulder and there was a fiery pride that shone in his gray eyes, lending them a lighter tinge, though she could not deny to also have detected a tiredness in the lines of his usually sculpted face. When he turned his head back to look at the road in front a irrational jolt sparked by an equally silly fear went through her at the thought that he soon might have to return to lead all of them from the head of the caravan. It was all the more relief when he kept walking beside her and even the silence between them did not make him inclined to leave her behind.

They continued their journey to New Dale in this way, sometimes talking, sometimes passing the time simply side by side without words passing between them. After an hour or more Thorin had falling back a little more so they were walking parallel with the magnificent looking Goat pulling the cart behind the first one. One of his hands held the reins as he, with a surprising gentleness that just by witnessing it caused her heart to skip a beat, urged the animal to plow through the snow. The path was kept free of it for the most part but they increasingly came across parts where it was more difficult to proceed and the Goats needed some persuasion to continue on. The one Thorin was guiding forward seemed particularly stubborn and reluctant. It dipped his head in protest, the sudden pulling at the reins in his hand causing him to mutter soothing words in Khuzdul in an attempt to reassure the animal it was safe to proceed. Not of a mind to take the Dwarf's word for it the Goat snorted loudly with nostrils flaring grumpily.

"If I did not know any better I would say your steeds are spoilt." Edúr remarked wittily after having observed Thorin's strangely endearing attempts to calm the Mountain Goat.

"And they should be." He concurred with an appreciative grin, "They are vital, after all, for everything we do. Transport, scouting, fighting-" He was prevented from finishing that sentence when the Goat next to him suddenly halted and pulled his arm so he had to come to an unexpected standstill too. The gray-flanked animal shook his horns from side to side and then disdainfully stared at its dirty hooves, scraping them indignantly on the rougher and barren patches between the snow.

"Then again, perhaps you are right. Clearly I must talk to the Masters of Erebor's stable or soon we will have a rebellion on our hands.." Thorin relented, a grin playing across his face as stepped in front of the animal and caringly patted the bridge of its nose. A lighthearted laugh escaped from her lungs and Edúr reached out to scratch its broad jaw as her companion looked over his shoulder at the road ahead. It was covered in more and more snow, the new layer added to it overnight made it nearly impossible for his Warriors and Workers, as well as for the Men of Dale, to clear the way and keep it free. Then he turned his head back and shot a investigative glance to the cart behind them which was almost upon them. Edúr looked up from the Goat which was lazily eying her through large brown eyes from behind long thick lashes, heart starting to thump madly when she thought she could decipher the determined glint in Thorin's gray ones.

"Perhaps it is better if you ride for this coming part." He voiced the decision had had obviously come to now he judged her attire to no longer be suitable to continue on foot.

"There is no need. I am no stranger to walking in these condition-" She started to protest, cursing the fact that she had stammered the words, thereby providing Thorin with a chance to stop her objections short.

"It is not your experience or skill that I doubt but rather that I don't want to risk my Sister's anger if my lack in manners caused her carefully chosen gifts to be ruined by the conditions of the road. Spoilt goats I can handle, but I fear a spoilt dress might prove too much of a challenge.."

"And how exactly do you propose to convince the former to carry me?" She countered, nudging her chin to the Goat they both stood close to.

He did not avert his steady gaze from her and his baritone voice came out deep and firm, "I can be persuasive."

Before Edúr could prepare herself he had stepped around her and, when she had turned around after him in curiosity, he reached out to her. Next moment his hands were on her waist and he lifted her up to sit on the Goat that patiently remained where it was. She cursed how she trembled at the unexpected touch and was too flustered to look at him directly. Thorin did not let her go until he was certain that she had found her balance in the saddle and not until she had awkwardly nodded at him did his hands slide off of her sides. Edúr shyly lifted her eyes and watched how Thorin returned to his place next to the Goat, grabbed a hold of the reins and with a quick but powerful pull stirred it into motion again, making her tighten her grasp on the pommel of the saddle so her knuckles turned white. She was glad for the chilly breeze whipping her hair and brushing her face, almost blowing off the hood of her mantle. _Why did she feel so incredibly warm when it was freezing_? _Why did the places on her skin where his fingers had had a hold on her burn as if it was on fire_? Knowing she should probably avert her gaze if she ever wanted to regain control of the many sensations raging through her, Edúr simply stared at the figure close by as he kept on going in a steady pace. Entranced she followed the snowflakes that started to tumble down from the sky with her eyes, all the way until they landed softly and soundlessly on his head, white crystals mingling with his raven black hair..

~Thanks for Reading & Let me know your thoughts on this chapter! (^-^b)~

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 **A/N: Alrighty, hope you guys liked it! Things are slowly but surely progressing, there's still a fair bit to go but plotwise there'll be some interesting developments and there's some action in store too not too long from now, so stay with me folks! ;) Also, I've started writing the first chapters for two other hobbit stories (a Kíli/OC and Fíli/OC one) which are both completely different from each other and from this one. Originally I wasn't planning on writing stories simultaneously but I didn't really expect myself to be able to resist the temptation, hihi Anyways I probably won't post those this month but still thought I might as well let you know, it partly explains why I've been slower with updating this story. Well, until next time~**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N (10-28-2016): Wow.. This chapter took me way too long, I might have underestimated the workload for my exam period (or overestimated my writing speed more like haha ;p) Anyway, it's a fair bit longer than the other chapters too but I didn't want to cut it in half again so here we are, hope you'll enjoy! As always, all of your favs/follows/reviews make me extremely happy! Thanks! :)**

 _Robinbird79: Hi! I'm so pleased you liked the interaction between Thorin and Edúr and that you spotted the light and deeper layers to it, that's what I was going for! :) Hope this chapter will deliver on that score too! Thanks for your review!_

 _Amadeusan: Yaay! You know that if you have a good day I have one too ;) And Thorin's definitely not going to be able to keep running away from realizing the truth about his feelings for Edúr, won't be long now… I'll do my best to include a certain dwarf's tattoo and the other dwarf's laces into the upcoming chapters, I'm addicted to such details myself hihi Thanks for leaving me a review!_

 _Angie: Yes! If I were in Edúr's shoes, Thorin could persuade me to do pretty much anything hihi I hope you'll also think that their moments together in New Dale are sweet too! Thanks for your review!_

 _Sorrellkaren: Thanks for the review! The fact that you picked out those details about those lines you mentioned makes me feel so grateful! And it's a little creepy too, haha, seriously it's like you were looking over my shoulder when I was writing that chapter. That scene with Dwalin and Thorin is one of my favorites (a long list but that one's definitely in the top five) and I'm glad you appreciated the reference to it. Yep, I guess the slow burn romance is making some hearts close to catching fire at long last!(loved your description of 'snowflake dotted breeze' there!) And you're welcome for the PM, least I can do to all you fantastic people leaving me a review!_

 _SophiaKaiba: I'm so glad you thought it was sweet! Won't be much longer now, I promise, no way their stubbornness is going to win it from their strong feelings.. ;)Thanks for leaving me a review!_

 _Joslyn: I think technically you reviewed for chapter 21 but seeing I can't PM you I hope to reach you this way; thanks for telling me you thought it was a beautiful chapter, as much as I want to focus on the romance part of the story (and the conversation between Edúr and Niam about dwarves having but one true love was part of that I guess,) I just couldn't resist also including some brother-sister moments from time to time between Thorin and Dís.. Thanks for the review!_

 _LazyLovedIt: Welcome to my story! ;) I'm glad you found it and read it all in one go by the looks of it! I feel I'm taking great liberty in writing about our favorite dwarves and it's always good to hear when someone likes how I portray them! And things between those two lovebirds might just get even sweeter in this chapter…;p Thanks for your review!_

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 **Disclaimer:** All rights go to the usual suspects! ;)

 **Chapter XXIV**

THE sound of hooves no longer plodding through mushy snow but clattering on stone woke Thorin from his thoughts that had stubbornly run back and forth the same track for the past hour. Before him rose with a steady slope the bridge to the city of New Dale. Although it had suffered during the Battle his Carvers and the Timbers of Men had saved it from crumbling to dust. Its weight rested on tall pillars that expanded in triangles at the bottom and top. He felt pride at the craftsmanship and yet a wholly different sensation drove it from his heart again the moment he glanced backward. Edúr took in the sight in a quiet but not less intense rapture. Her unguarded curiosity and awe send a powerful thrill up his spine and he forced himself to focus on the steep road ahead, leading the Goat on as it gradually curved upwards. Soon they passed through an arched gate flanked by Men wearing tattered tabards, frayed, dirt-stained mantles and battered helmets padded with rough wool that ran all around the rim too. There was also movement above them in the pair of turrets embedded into the parapet stretching out in opposite directions along the fortified outer wall. He nodded to his Guards at the head of the caravan who did not need him to put his order into words and brought the cart in front to a standstill once the last one had entered the city.

Even from the edge of the main square on the lowest level it was evident how much the population had increased. Or rather despite the sacrifices made during the Battle with the past few Moons many had lived and come from the surrounding area to seek refuge and a chance at a better future within New Dale. Most among them were survivors from Esgaroth, but others had dwelled in small settlements along the shores of the Long Lake as farmers or had been traveling to this area as merchants from far off places when tragedy befell these lands once more. With the Death of Smaug, however, and the costly victory over the forces of Evil following it, Thorin thought he could already catch a glimpse of what this city of Men located at the threshold of Erebor could once more become. It was nothing short of miraculous how these people had rallied after what they had been through, making him reconsider his conviction that resilience was something the race of Men did not possess. After all, the sight of people out and about, each busy with their own tasks with such purpose and determination wholly contradicted that belief.

A not unpleasant tingling spreading through his hands once again distracted him from his surroundings. Since the moment he had lifted her onto the Goat his palms had continued to feel as if they prickled and burned at the same time. He turned around, chancing a look at Edúr who had obviously been too mesmerized by all that she saw around them to have moved even though they had stopped. A jolt instantly went through him at the thought he would soon feel her weight in his arms again, have his hands slip around her waist as tenderly as he could, only for it to be quelled when one of his Warriors had stepped forward and gallantly offered to help. As he watched the Dwarf assist her to slide gently off of the animal he clutched the reins tighter as if to anchor himself. Robbed of the chance to hold her close however briefly made him feel inexplicably feverish, not the kind he had experienced when he was under the influence of Gold but fiercer and wilder somehow. _Mahal_.. He needed to control this feeling better or the rest of the day was going to be torture. With a moody reluctance he could not fathom Thorin let go of the reins and approached her, determined to mask the fact that he felt utterly disappointed when, really, he had no right to be. Nevertheless he had scowled at the armored Dwarf when he passed him on his way before he had been able to stop himself, then, equally without his control, he smiled the moment her eyes turned to him. He tried his best to morph his expression back into one of outward composure at least.

"This way." He told Edúr, offering her his arm. It pleased him beyond measure when she did not seem to hesitate like she would have done not too long ago and ever so lightly placed her hand in the nook of his elbow so he could guide her through the city. There was no need for him to elaborate on her first impressions of the place seeing the marks of both a Dragon attack and the Battle were still clearly visible. Besides, if he was honest with himself than his attention was not bent on commenting on the environment they passed through for as they crossed the square all he was mostly aware of was the subtle pull he felt tugging on his arm. It was enthralling to say the least to sense her so close, to have her hand grasp the folds of his overcoat as she followed him and he felt every one of her fingertips pressing on the garment as if they directly touched his skin underneath. He was relieved that the unfounded and irrational jealousy that had surged through him was quickly ebbing away. He should never again allow that sentiment to have a hold over him, he was far too old to give in to such an emotion. However, the vacuum that his envy left behind in its wake threatened to provide his desire with an opportunity to grow stronger. _A desire to increase his pace if only a little so he could feel her cling onto him more_..

"There are so many Dwarves here.." It took a moment for her clear voice to reach his ears. With a sense of shame that made the sides of his neck prickle Thorin latched onto her gaze as it strayed from Dwarf to Dwarf, some working in groups, some alone or together with Men, but each working equally hard to mend the buildings surrounding the large diamond-shaped square.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, hoping to clear his head that way too, "I have assigned all the Workers we can spare to help rebuild the city, though I confess I have been remiss in granting but not yet offering them their share of the treasure that would be more than helpful with that too. Today I hope to make amends for that."

Thorin subtly threw his head back a little, indicating the caravan of carts spilling over with goods including some heavy, oak chests.

"You will not expect payment for the Dwarves working here now?"

"No, I do not. To have my honor restored, and more importantly that of my people in the eyes of Men is more than enough payment."

She nodded in seeming approval, something he could not name lighting her eyes as she had them rest on him for a moment, releasing that desire he had attempted to restrain from its chains. He felt intense regret when he had to stop in front of an imposing looking building that somewhat loomed over them. The Great Hall had somehow been spared most of the damage the other buildings had suffered and served once again its centuries old purpose. Within he would meet with Lord Bard's assembly that dealt with matters of trade to discuss new contracts and finally hand over to them that which he promised what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Taking care not to appear as impatient as he felt to get this meeting over and done with so he could revel in her presence longer, Thorin carefully enveloped her hand still resting on his elbow with his own. "I will see you again later.." It had been intended as a statement but had sounded like a question when his own restlessness had changed the tone of his voice near the end of that sentence.

Edúr nodded again, an almost solemn dip of her chin before her mouth quirked and she added as she cast a look around the crowded square, "If I don't lose my way.."

"I trust Balin to know it for you, though for some reason his way always passes more taverns than it does for the rest of us."

"So the farther I follow him, the more winding the way back will become?"

"Very likely."

Someone close behind them cleared his throat loudly in protest. Next moment the old, white haired Dwarf joined them, remarking with his nose held aloft as if in indignant defense, "I wouldn't dream of taking a fine Lady such as yourself to the few taverns which, I happen to know, are strangely enough already thriving among the ruins." He threw in a good-humored wink before adding with honesty, "Mind you it is cold enough for a stiff drink. Would warm me up more than a blazing fire ever could.."

"Maybe you would be better off remembering your own way." Thorin commented dryly in a low voice much to his companion's enjoyment.

"Yes. Perhaps I should." She promised, barely able to stifle an amused laugh as Balin raised both hands like he was surrendering to the King's jest and reassuring her she need not worry at the same time.

"No, no. No need. I will be your guide, lass, and I'll be sure to return you to Thorin's side before he misses your company too much. So you see, my dear, we better leave now for that would give us very little time to explore indeed."

Thorin felt his jaw clench, the smile on his face dissolving instantly. His heartrate increased to the point where the accursed organ seemed to hammer against his ribs. It took all of his willpower to keep breathing and ignore his Councilor's sharp wit and rather shrewd look in his direction, dark eyes twinkling with a merriment he did not share. Next to him Edúr was clearly digesting what exactly it was that Balin had said. Head tilted slightly and brows furrowed made him fear she was very close to unraveling the old Dwarf's words. Nerves spiking he swallowed down a sense of restless panic and gingerly lifted her fingers off his elbow, trying not to tremble in the process. The moment she caught on to what he was doing she rather hastily retreated her hand as if she felt impolite at having hold on to him so long or -and this is what he really hoped was not the case- because she felt her prolonged closeness made him feel uncomfortable. Well.. It _did_ make him feel uncomfortable. But not in that way. _How in Mahal's holy name could he ever apologize if he could not explain his feelings_..? _What was he even feeling_?

"I will leave you now." He finally settled on saying, the curtness of that statement was unintentional but at this moment, with both his heart and mind caught off balance by his old friend's keen insight, he would never manage to speak in a collected, firm voice. Thorin threw her what he sincerely hoped was a neutral look before he motioned for Gloín and the other representatives of the Merchants' Guild who had hung back respectfully to follow him as he stepped over the threshold. The thumping sounds of his heavy footsteps filled the Great Hall as he made his way through it but it was nothing compared to the deafening beatings of his heart thumping relentlessly in his ears..

* * *

Hastily plastering a smile on her face in response to Ori's stammering yet another apology in her direction that his Scribe duties prevented him from joining her and Balin, Edúr patted him briefly on one of his hunched shoulders. Encouraged by the gesture he nodded gratefully, eyes sparkling with contagious zeal from under his bangs as, charcoal pencil once again balanced behind his ear, he bit his lip determinedly, clutched the official looking scroll even tighter to his chest then turned on his heels. She watched him disappear into the grand looking building trying hard not to be reminded of who had done so before the young Dwarf.

It was not an easy task when she could still feel his fingers suddenly seeming to rebel against the very presence of hers on his elbow when before that him placing his hand over them had made her feel strangely anchored, especially in an environment so wholly unfamiliar to her. One moment she had shivered with heartfelt relish as they had united in jest against his Councilor, increasing that sense of being linked to him, the next he had gently but not less directly desired her release of his arm. She had not fully understood every layer of what Balin had said to him, had not had the chance to do so. And now she was left with a pungent sensation of suddenly losing that fixedness and ending up adrift instead. She was thankful for the old Dwarf's soothing presence now she felt nothing less than completely lost in this strange new place. Just by his innate calmness she slowly grounded again with every step she took as he guided her through the city of New Dale.

Two Guards trailing behind them, they made their steady way up several levels following a path paved with cobblestones the grooves of which were overgrown with brown, dried up moss. Everywhere people in worn and shabby clothes were milling about, some setting up market stands or carrying around baskets filled with either food, fabrics or bricks and lumber, while others, with tools in hand of all shapes and sizes and looking more fitting for fishery than hammering in nails in some cases, were working together with Dwarves to mend the many houses half destroyed by the dragon, the battle and time itself. Edúr could not look away from the scars left by all the many misfortunes that had befallen this City of Men. And yet.. Despite the debris scattered across every street, alley and square, and even with the thorn-rich vines crawling over buildings with gaping holes for windows and doors and the broken fountains with icicles clinging to the edges of the different basins she still thought she could glimpse what it must have looked like in times of plenty and prosperity. Although now withered and bereft of green foliage there were many trees that once must have lined boulevards teeming with life. There was many a courtyard where she could picture people wearing their finest clothes to have ambled arms linked as they exchanged news and gossip with their neighbors, for merchants to discuss business or sell their goods to the highest bidder. She could almost hear the patter of light feet and the laughter of children playing on the streets and the sight of a broken down carousel almost brought tears to her eyes as they rested on a rust and dirt covered horse, its merry rider gone..

Edúr was about to shake herself from her gloomy reverie when the jagged silhouette looming from afar between the crumbling buildings froze her in her tracks.

"Ravenhill.." Balin halting next to her muttered darkly, his tone inadvertently making her shudder. There was something inexplicably ominous about the ancient watchtower perched on the rugged rock that rose up from the horizon.

"Are the legends true? Did Carc the Wise live there?" She asked, it was hard to believe she now looked out onto his nesting grounds.

"Aye, he and his kin have dwelled there from before Dwarves founded Erebor. They endured even the coming of Smaug.."

"The King of the Ravens.." Edúr mumbled, remembering her Grandmother telling her stories of the famed Bird.

"That he was." Balin concurred with a reminiscing _hum_.

"You have seen him?" She asked in surprise, not having expected this could be the case.

Balin nodded, a smile playing on his lips, "I was a young lad when my father took me to the Guard Chamber on _Bâha-zunsh-hund_. I shall never forget how I leant out of the window hoping to catch a glimpse of him and then a black spot in the sky came closer and closer, growing in size until the most magnificent looking bird I had ever clapped eyes on landed right in front of my nose."

"It is true he could speak Westron?"

"It is. And so can his son Roäc. Cheeky too, mind you." Balin told her with a wink.

"I can well believe it." She said, thinking of those countless times when Morkai would not spare her his wit when she was but a Dwarrowling. His kind in the North, however, used Ravenspeech and had assimilated parts of Khuzdul in it as a result of her Grandmother's teachings.

The white-bearded Dwarf rose his arm and pointed a finger in the direction of the dominant looking structure, "It has always been the perfect strategic position to overlook the valley of Dale and the river Running flowing from the very core of Erebor itself. And it is only because the Ravens and the Dwarves of Erebor have been Allies for a very long time that they allowed us to build a lookout on their home. For as long as I can remember it has been there, situated on a ridge extending from the Lonely Mountain and on the other side a cliff with a powerful waterfall cascading down. You could hear the caws of the Ravens and the mighty roar of the water if the wind came from that direction. These days there are fewer of Carc's kind left and they do not always stay for the winter. The waterfall is frozen solid this time of the year of course.." He paused, eyes fixed on the rugged height protruding between the decayed buildings of New Dale as if it had sprung from its very streets, and she could hear the leather creak and crinkle as he balled his fists, "I fear a shadow now lies upon that place that will never lift.."

He spoke with such an immense sadness that for a long moment she did not know what to say. There was hurt and sorrow in his expression, his shoulders sagged and the lines in his face seemed more pronounced as a weight she did not understand made him suddenly look like the old Dwarf that he was. Instinctively she reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder which made Balin squeeze his eyes gleaming with tears in gratitude. Then he turned away and cleared his throat, "Come, lass. Let us join the others. We are meeting with the Lord Bard in his home. It is not far from here."

Visibly still battling a melancholy emotion they walked on in silence, passing a pavilion seemingly split in two by the Firedrake's tail or claw. Most of its large, brass horns pointing outwards were shattered and dented beyond repair. Soon they halted in front of a house hedged in between mere ruins reduced to skeleton like structures with cracked and crumbled walls, caved-in roofs and balconies with most banisters missing or splintered. The building in the middle was of a simple design, with door and windows flanked by pillars with linking arches, flowing and curved instead of angular like Dwarven architecture. The roof was made up of tiles a faded red and the facade was covered in sand-colored bricks to form a broad, tower-like house. For a moment Edúr assumed they had arrived at the wrong place -for how could the Lord of the City of New Dale live in this dilapidated, unimpressive looking building- but then she saw the man standing on the threshold and all doubt left her.

He was tall and looked even taller in his long deep blue coat, frayed shirt and leather belt resting casually on his hips. His shoulders were straightened as a pair of dark brown eyes containing more wisdom than his smooth face suggested looked straight at them. Edúr inadvertently swallowed hard under his intense gaze realizing her initial impression of the Lord Bard's dwelling now fitted with the sober appearance of the man himself. Most strikingly was that despite his plain clothes he still had the unmistakable bearing of a leader. A quality that instantly reminded her of Thorin.

Edúr almost jumped out of her own skin when she heard the resonant voice of that very Dwarf suddenly behind her. He, together with Gloín, Ori and two Guards, had apparently arrived at more or less the exact same time, their courses converging though she had been too engrossed to notice it.

"Lord Bard. It is good to see you." Thorin said, also nodding in gratitude to an elderly, gray haired man that was with them and seemed to have guided them through the city.

"Likewise, Thorin. I appreciate your visit to us today." Lord Bard replied, his tone sincere. The older man made a small bow in his direction, no more than a dip of his head, saying in a tone that it made clear he respected his leader, "I will see you later then, Bard."

"All right, Percy. Thank you for bringing them to my very doorstep." Bard patted him on the shoulder before his right hand man gave the rest a friendly smile and left.

"I am sorry for not attending the transfer of the treasure and overseeing the new contracts forged between our cities, I was needed elsewhere." Bard continued, now directing himself to all the Dwarves gathered before him as he gravely explained, "The Houses of Healing had a wall collapse this morning, I wanted to make sure our sick and wounded were relocated and taken care of, especially in this weather."

He frowned, eying the cloud covered sky that threatened snow before too long and the biting wind did not make for any less hostile conditions.

"I understand." Thorin said, his expression void of accusation, instead heartfelt sympathy shone in his eyes.

"I trust the cooperation with my assembly was satisfactory?" Bard inquired, tilting his head as if he did not doubt it had been but wanted to hear it spoken out loud by the Dwarven King all the same.

Thorin copied the gesture, in his case to emphasize it had been, solemnly adding afterwards, "I hope it was yet another step in closing the gap between our peoples, a sign of a growing, mutual respect."

"Aye, I have the same hope. And it only strengthens when not just words but actions convince me it is well grounded." Appearing pleased Bard nodded earnestly as he looked Thorin in the eye. Then he took a step forward and gestured for all of them to enter his home, "Please, come inside, supper is ready, it would be my honor to have you as my guests."

Thorin motioned for the others to precede him, indicating too with a meaningful look that he expected Bard to go in first. The tall Leader of Men patiently obeyed, a hint of an amused grin playing across his face at the proud and somewhat stoic display of Dwarven etiquette that demanded the host to lead his guests into his home.

While the Guards, her and Balin's having joined the other two, made ready to station themselves on either side of the entrance Edúr delayed following the white-bearded Dwarf. He had urged her to go before him but her visible hesitation had been enough to convince him that leading the way might be better encouragement. Soon he, along with Ori and Gloín had disappeared inside, leaving her alone with Thorin. She could feel his inquiring gaze resting upon her as she still had not moved from her spot. Edúr nervously brushed her hair behind her ears feeling trapped in her own reservations. All of a sudden she felt lost in that unfamiliar place that New Dale was to her. She was not a Merchant, not a Scribe nor a Councilor.. _What was she_? _A guest of the King and now a guest of the Lord of Dale_? Back in Erebor, with the support of the Company and of the Lady Dís too, she had been able to keep that feeling of fate having cruelly displaced her and her cousin at bay. It had by no means dissolved but the presence of the other Dwarves had assuaged it momentarily.

Edúr cast a furtive glance at Thorin who had taken a few steps in her direction and was still waiting for her to go in first. She cursed inwardly for this panicky feeling of dread an uncertainty to come over her now at such an inopportune moment.

"You did not enjoy your walk through the city with Balin?" He asked, no doubt having noticed her uneasiness.

Edúr quickly shook her head in denial, "No. No, I did. It is not that."

"Then what is it?" He stood next to her, calmly and patiently and she was immensely glad for the fact he did not rush her to speak or move.

"Is it truly all right for me to join you? As you know I have no position in Erebor, I am here on your invitation, not the Lord Bard's.." She finally voiced the qualms she had about going inside after the others.

He made a gravelly sound in the back of his throat that as always send a tingling through her bones, then narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and looked at her, lowering his chin as if in understanding.

"Last time he invited the Company to stay under his roof it was the result of a precarious deal. Now it is to welcome his allies. For that reason alone you are to be one of them. I won't lie to you. Me and the Lord Bard had our differences when we first met but I see now that he is also one of the few honorable Men I have met in my lifetime, therefor he would not wish for you to remain outside in the cold. Nor would I." Thorin told her assuringly, next instant he took another step closer and she could feel his hand briefly resting against the small of her back. He gently nudged her into motion, careful not to push but rather to guide her forward. Edúr forced herself to place one foot in front of the other, trying hard to ignore the inexplicable but powerful tickling sensation that traveled up and down her spine at his touch. It took all of her willpower to listen as he turned to her again and she held her breath as he did, hoping he would not notice her body trembling against his hand still on her back.

"Besides, I am curious how the Lord Bard will fare as our host under your scrutinizing gaze." He remarked teasingly as they neared the door, "Though I fear I hope in vain to have him replace me as the worst of that kind you have ever encountered."

"Thorin." She halted, his humility however lighthearted prompting her to speak with more courage than she honestly thought she possessed at the moment, "You have more than made up for.. For.."

His suddenly earnest gaze made her lower her own as she frantically searched for the right words to end that sentence with.

"For the foolish mistake I made by treating you as my prisoner instead of my guest." He supplied with a deep sigh.

"My disrespectful behavior towards you was equally without honor. Does this not make us equally foolish?" Edúr hastened to say, looking up at him again. Heartrate increasing she felt rather than knew she had finally allowed her regret of those first meetings to win over her stubborn pride to admit it to the one Dwarf she should have told of it sooner. For a moment he remained silent and she thought he swallowed down the emotion she could not fathom which had made his gray eyes gleam, lending a brilliance to them that took her breath away.

Finally, he blinked once and an appreciative smile broke through the stunned expression that had marred his looks, "Perhaps it does."

They at last stepped over the threshold and into the home of Bard, Lord of New Dale. The windows were small and diamond-shaped that only let in little daylight now that clouds hid the winter sun this day. To compensate for this no less than a dozen or so oil-lamps were lit, hanging on different heights from frail looking chains, their yellow and murky glass making it seem as if warm, liquid honey was inside. The ceiling, which had beams crisscrossing underneath it, was surprisingly low, making her wonder how many levels were above them. The ground floor was one, large, circular room with a sturdy looking table -equally round- in the middle around which were placed many chairs of different colors. To her left there was a hearth and a collection of mismatching armchairs and footstools, while on the far end to her right there was a small and cosy kitchen. Edúr could just make out pots and pans hanging from hooks on the wall above the stove next to which was an array of cupboards in different degrees of disrepair, though they had been patched up with whatever was available, when she felt someone pulling on her sleeve. First she looked questioningly at Thorin, who grinned mysteriously and nudged his chin in the opposite direction.

"Excuse me, Miss, but can I take your cloak and gloves?" A little girl with light brown hair tied back and wearing a jade green, high collared dress asked her, voice high and clear. Edúr stared back into her eyes the color of water then quickly stammered her thanks and began to take off her gloves and cloak when she felt Thorin's hand slip from her back, she swore she could have felt him gently nudging her forward a little to wake her from her once again motionless state. She was about to follow him now he stirred next to her after having taken off his own weather-stained cloak and hung it next to her when her toes bumped into something solid. Something that emitted a series of out of tune and strangely hollow twanging sounds like a very sleepy learner was practicing on an old instrument, plucking at the strings halfheartedly. She bent her back and legs to slowly pick up the crippled music box, the melody inside which was still falteringly trying to get out mingled with strange grinding and croaking noises before it silenced itself again.

"I am sorry.. Um.." She began to express her regret to the little girl, realizing she did not know her name yet.

"Tilda." She got down on her knees too and happily introduced herself, shrugging away her apology, "Don't worry, Miss, it was already broken."

Despite her resigned tone Edúr could see the young child was saddened because of it and she glanced back at the object in her hands. It was shaped like a jewelry box with two small figures frozen in their movement on top of it. Once they would have been colorful but now the paint was peeling and even gone in some places. The embossed geometrical shapes indicated its Dwarvish origins, though if it had not been for that than the beard on one of the figures and the braids on the other would have certainly given the identity of its maker away.

Apparently not having left her side yet, Thorin crouched down next to her saying with a kindness she now more than suspected he possessed though he did not show it often, "May I see it?'

He first looked at Tilda for her to nod her permission, then his gray eyes flitted left and briefly linked to hers as he took the toy from her as she offered it to him, one hand carefully holding it the other cupping hers as if to make sure it would not fall to the ground as it changed owner. For a moment he studied the music box with an obvious reverence for the craftsmanship lighting up his gray eyes, then deftly readjusted a rusty gear and spring. The peaceful expression he wore as he worked had a spellbinding effect on Edúr, she could not get enough of observing Thorin, a King of the Greatest of all Dwarven Kingdoms, wholly engrossed by the seemingly small act of repairing a child's toy. A toy that their kin, his people, had made in better times.

All too soon a deep, satisfied rumbling traveled up his throat and he turned the key protruding from the back of the music box, handing it over to the little girl as if he was returning a long lost friend to her. Tilda's eyes grew wide and a broad smile split her face when the two figures jolted into motion, twirling around each other in their dance while a beguiling melody could be heard coming from the core of the box, hauntingly beautiful now it was free of the gnashing noise of metal on metal. The tree of them got to their feet, Tilda simply beaming as she ran towards her father's embrace. Bard looked approvingly from over at the table where the others had gathered and were busy arranging cutlery and plates, one arm slung across his daughter's shoulders.

"Looks like you have earned your supper." He said jovially, stretching out his free arm to indicate the bowls of steaming vegetables and potatoes as well as a platter with a large grilled trout the delicious smell of which only now reached her nose. Thorin accepted the good-humored remark by cocking his head in a gesture of exaggerated gratitude and striding over, Edúr easily falling into step next to him.

"Not just a blacksmith but a toymaker too?" She softly quipped, leaning towards him.

"And a king to boot, though that has always been my least impressive title.." He answered her in a low tone only she could hear. His self-mockery evoked an inelegant snort that had a deep blush instantly blossom on her cheeks whereas she very much suspected it had served to widen Thorin's smile even further.

Before she could say anything, though, Ori chose that moment to call her over and finally amend what he considered his embarrassing neglect of her that morning. He pried her away from his side with an awkward but not less respectful bow in the direction of his King, then pulled her with him to sit down in the chair he had kept free on her behalf. Edúr listened to Ori's amiable chattering, elbows resting on the woodgrain ridden surface of the table while she let her eyes rove over a tapestry covering half of the wall, extending across the curve of it. She recognized it as a depiction of the city of Dale, its houses seemingly built with golden bricks and ruby covered roofs. Then her gaze lowered to rest on Thorin who had sat down across from her and was at that moment drawn into conversation by Bard. Cursing her own distractedness, Edúr mentally reproached herself and focused on the one she was having with her young friend sitting next to her, enjoying at the same time the savory meal set out before them; if their races had still been at war the good food and company of their host would have brought peace if nothing else had.

By the time her stomach was filled and her mind slightly drowsy from the wine, Edúr knew she would not soon forget today, especially that she had sat down with two leaders she now, in her very comfortable and saturated position, deemed equally honorable. They had spoken mostly of the Alliance between the Men of New Dale and the Dwarves of Erebor that had risen from the ashes after the Battle. About how they could work together in the future, ensuring both realms to coexist and thrive together. Ori had scribbled things down now and then whenever there was a lull in his conversation with her and they had listened intently to the others, whereas Gloín had mainly been eating to his heart's content and only spoke up when his advice as Master of Coin was required. Balin on the other hand had kindly inquired after Bard's other children and their host's face had lit up when he had told them about his eldest daughter working as a healer in the Houses of Healing he had spoken of before and how his middle child, his only son, was on patrol with his regiment as they kept a watchful eye out for any bands of raiding orcs. Not that there were many of those left seeing Lord Daín and his army from the Iron Hills had annihilated most of them already. It was why Bard concluded evenly but also with unmistakable pride that his son's career as a warrior mainly involved a lot of pacing back and forth across the outer wall, peering into the uneventful distance. His words produced a lot of chuckling and chortling all around, making Edúr steal a glimpse at Thorin's teeth-baring smile as she was roused by the sound of his rumbling laughter among that of the others.

Not looking or paying particular attention to what she was doing her fingers clasped around the nearest tankard only to suddenly hear Balin to her left clear his throat meaningfully.

"This one is yours I believe." He shoved the right one in her direction with a disarming wink, eyes glistening with mirth.

"Sorry.." Edúr mumbled, realizing too late the stupid mistake she had made because her thoughts had been far away; her attention bent on something - _someone_ \- else entirely.

"Not to worry. You're not exactly the first dwarf trying to steal my ale." He patted her arm in a sort of comradely support, then threw a look she could not decipher at Thorin even though he did not look in their direction, hummed in delight and finally took a swig of his tankard. Having followed his line of vision back to the King, Edúr almost knocked over her own goblet now she had once again failed to direct her hand without getting distracted as she discerned the ghost of a telling grin on the Dwarf's handsome face that she doubted had anything to do with what the Lord Bard was saying to him. Flustered she brought the purplish drink to her lips, trying to somehow hide her red face behind the goblet as she tilted it upwards with her heart tumbling around in her chest to such a degree it seemed it wasn't even fixed in place anymore nor ever would again..

* * *

Pipe in hand he watched with a fondness that constantly seemed to tug at the corners of his mouth as Edúr hung back in an upholstered armchair with a tattered and torn fabric that apparently did not affect its coziness. She looked completely at ease and content and the sight truly warmed his heart. He had rarely seen her like this, free of all worry even if but for a moment. Next to her both Ori and Tilda were clapping in time with the steady beat of Gloín's boot. His Master of Coin had taken it upon himself to treat all of them to an ancient ballad meant for Dwarrowlings, especially those that ate a little too greedily. In a booming voice the red-bearded Dwarf sung about the Prince and his Keep with a very small door, so small in fact only he himself (young as he still was) could enter it. He filled it with the best food and ale, then grew in size so much that at the end of the song he could not leave his own Halls, claiming that the door had shrunk and it was not he that had swelled. Gloín bowed low after singing the last word with a grumbling sort of tremor, almost tripping over his own beard much to his audience's enjoyment.

Ori was laughing out loud and patting his knees while Tilda was practically jumping up and down in mirth. Edúr was still curled up in the embrace of the broad chair, looking as if she, like himself, had listened quietly to the song and revisited those memories in her mind when her family had been present to hear it with her. It was a well-known ditty, used as a lullaby sometimes too. Seeing her strangely pacified and dreamy expression he knew it had been sung to her too and the realization made him feel strangely and intensely connected to her.

From the corner of his eyes he saw how Balin had finished his conversation with their host and walked over to Gloín. They swung their arms over each other shoulders and soon were swaying one way then the other, almost careening over once or twice, as they hummed a love song the first was too old for to remember the words of and the latter too intoxicated to know them either. Ori and Tilda had started giggling while Edúr slowly rose from her chair and stretched out her hands to be warmed by the roaring fire as Bard, having left him to smoke his pipe in peace, approached her. Thorin instinctively straightened, eyes locked onto both and straining his ears to catch what was being said.

"Forgive me if I stared but I have not had the honor of meeting a Dwarrowdam before. In fact, legend almost had me believe you did not exist." Bard said in his usual direct but not unfriendly way.

Perceiving his remark as well as his frankness to be both harmless and well-meant, Edúr smiled broadly at him, "I can assure you that we do, though legends such as these are more often than not born from my race's desire that we remain a mystery."

"I see. And would it be Dwarrows or Dwarrowdams starting these rumors?" Bard inquired inquisitively.

"I leave that for you to decide." Was her enigmatic reply as she turned to stare back into the fire, fingers sprawled for more warmth.

"I think the tone of your voice, as well as the words you spoke just now, have provided me with the answer I was after." Bard commented wisely, narrowing his eyes in appreciation of her humor. She joined in his light laughter, a clear sound as that of pebbles raining down on a lake one by one. Thorin momentarily forgot the pipe in his hands and the tankard of mead placed for him on a side-table, instead taking in the entrancing sound and sight of her as her dress flowed around her body when she ever so slightly moved in her mirth. He was rather rudely pulled out of his spellbound state when he picked up Bard's question.

"Are you family of the King?" The tall man briefly glanced over his shoulder at him, making Thorin quickly avert his gaze. A silence followed his words, well, as silent as it was going to get with Balin and Gloín humming loudly and their audience still tittering in sheer joy, and he chanced a furtive look in Edúr's direction. His own heart hammered desperately in his chest when she had visibly tensed up and now hurriedly shook her head as if to make up for her belated answer, "No, I am not. I am from a different Clan. From the North." She explained somewhat tersely.

"But you came to Erebor?" Bard frowned, not in disapproval but simply out of interest to know more.

"Yes.. I.. um.." Her voice trailed off and she shifted uncomfortably.

Clasping one hand behind his back Thorin took a step in their direction, "Lady Edúr, Daughter of Edrík, is our honored guest." He intervened, deliberately speaking up so that Bard half turned to face him as he came over to join the two of them, "As is her cousin, Niam, Son of Efraín, though he has remained in Erebor today."

Bard nodded in understanding, directing himself to Edúr again who still seemed lost for words, "So does that mean you will go back to the North one day? Return to your own Clan?"

Her eyelashes fluttered wildly at this, betraying to him in an instant that she did not know how to reply, whether that hesitance had arisen from a touching willingness to spare his feelings as King of the place where she resided as his guest or because she truly was not sure if she would return if she could. Either way he hated to see her this upset and spoke on her behalf again, hoping she would not be affronted by him taking this liberty, "That is not possible at the moment. Even so, it is also our sincerest wish she will stay for a while longer."

Thorin tried in vain to mask the fervor he felt surge through him as he voiced that hope by bringing his pipe to his lips but the radiant smile spreading on her face made him swallow its fumes. It was only a little bit of smoke that went the wrong way but it was enough that he turned away to cover for that and the fact that his heartrate was now so fast it was a palpable throbbing in his throat. Mentally reproaching himself for his moment of weakness, for wording so unambiguously his own fervent desire, it took him a moment to recover from his cough that he had brought on himself and fully deserved.

"I am afraid it is getting late." He announced when he had finally regained control of his voice, facing Bard and Edúr again though he could not yet muster the courage to look the latter directly in the eyes, "We must leave you now if we want to be back before sundown."

He firmly clasped the Leader of Men's hand with both of his own, relying on the look in his eyes to convey the full extent of his gratitude. Bard returned it by briefly squeezing his eyes which shone with a respectful light, and solemnly inclined his head afterwards. Then Thorin stomped off to get his coat, trusting Balin to deal with the rest of the leave-taking for he truly needed air to cool his head. Nevertheless, he had only taken one deep, refreshing breath -no more than a foggy vapor leaving his mouth- when his resolution to clear his befuddled mind was doomed to fail as it was the Dwarrowdam filling his every thought it seemed that stepped outside before the others. She adjusted the collar of her cloak to ward off the biting wind, then made to pull on her gloves. When she noticed him observing her it almost seemed to make her waver and, as if to demonstrate this, one glove fell out of her hands. She quickly retrieved it and fumbled to get it on, the other one still grasped in her other hand. Though it had nothing to do with her current and apparent clumsiness which he found endearing more than anything else, his pensive frown prompted her to remark apologetically, "It seems I have overindulged myself by sitting too close to the fire. One moment outside in the cold is enough to numb my limbs and have them refuse to obey my commands."

Edúr self-consciously attempted once more to have her fingers crawl into her gloves, mumbling with something close to exasperation when they would not, "Well, either that or I have not heeded the warning embedded in Master Glóin's song and ate too much so my hands have simply outgrown my gloves." She huffed in feigned amusement or genuine jest at herself, looking flustered and ready to give up.

Desirous only of assisting Thorin walked over, "Please," He gestured for her to hold out her hands to him, "I will help you."

"Must be the wine." She commented as he effortlessly slid on the first glove, making him wonder with a sudden sense of confusion whether she was desperate to draw attention away from the fact he had perhaps too boldly claimed the right to assist her.

"Apparently it has affected my skill to perform a simple act as this." She finished as he lifted her remaining, bare hand with his own for the second glove to fit on.

"I am sure it is." He agreed, trying to ignore the pleasant glow of her skin, warmed by the fire as it had been, on his own, "Though if it is not, gluttony and freezing temperatures notwithstanding, what else could it be?" He added teasingly before realizing he could have well be the one to have caused it by having observed her so sternly, watching so openly as she had joined him outside.

Edúr opened her mouth then almost immediately closed it again, eyes flying from left to right, making him fear he was right in suspecting he was indeed to blame. Cursing inwardly he did not fail to notice how he was now suddenly doing a pretty poor job himself in trying to pull on her glove. His close proximity to her was making him feel feverish again and he could just hold back his hand from trembling when he, as tenderly as he could, bent her thumb so the glove would finally fit around it. He tugged it over her wrist, somewhat apprehensively lifting his eyes to look at her face. Relief spread through him when he thought he could detect a smile that she seemed to try and hold in though the dimples in her cheek deepened and were indication enough it was costing her some effort. It was more than he could resist and instead of letting go of her hand he took it in his own to gently pull her with him, "If you will permit me, I would like to show you something that you need to see before we leave.."

She did not protest but he carefully let go of her hand regardless after taking a few steps and instead placed his own just behind her elbow so that he could still guide her in the right direction. They turned around a corner not two houses removed from Bard's and stepped out onto a roofless courtyard looking out over the Valley of Dale. Slender pillars that had chunks missing here and there supported a roofless structure of stone lattices which, although deteriorated over time, enclosed the somewhat hidden but large square. At the center stood what remained of an unadorned throne, carved out of rock a deep gray and partly covered in ivy, which his Grandfather Thror had gifted to the Lord Girion, Bard's ancestor. Thorin did not walk towards it but halted just beyond it in front of the City's thick inner wall that did not reach higher than his chest. The breathtaking view instantly ensured their silence to endure a moment longer.

He stared at Erebor, the green-marbled statues of the Dwarven Warriors standing guard and rising above it was the Lonely Mountain itself, majestic and intimidating now the sun peeked from between the clouds, balancing it seemed on the very tip of the jagged and rocky pinnacle, casting it in its pale meager light when it pierced the orb and refracted its fragile rays.

" _Azhâr-ê_.." He murmured filled with that deep and fierce longing that reminded him of that day he had stood on the threshold, turned the key and opened the secret door to his forebear's Halls. Turning towards her he saw her eyes widen at the sight they gazed at before she slowly tilted her head towards him.

" _Ya azhâr-zi_." Thorin could not withhold the passion he deeply felt at that precious realization from seeping into those words. She shivered but he knew it was not from the cold. And yet.. _How could he know that_?

" _Zûr ka-hu_?" She asked him, voice barely more than a whisper, her body also turning so they were standing opposite each other barely an inch between them.

This time his voice was raw with emotion when he answered her, " _Yindîn-zi_. _Ni amrâb-zi_. _Ni damâm-zi_. _Ni kurdu-zi_.."

His hand hovered above her heart, the tip of his fingers brushing against the laces that entwined there. He could swear he was not the only one to hold his breath and he felt strangely in danger of drowning in those eyes of her, their deep blue infinitely surpassing the mesmerizing deep of Kheled-zâram. Then he could hear loud and familiar voices drifting through the cold afternoon air towards them as the others must have stepped outside too and were gathering in front of Bard's home. His heart skipped a beat that forced him to inhale sharply and he hurriedly retreated his hand, letting it fall to his side. The sounds of their group of Dwarves starting on their way made Edúr stir too. She took a step back, fidgeting again with her gloves even though they could not possibly fit any better than they already did. Mentally forcing himself to move he was relieved when she managed to do the same and they soon returned to the others, not a word passing between them.

Ori looked up in delighted surprise at seeing the Dwarrowdam next to him emerge when he had no doubt been worrying about her absence. Gloín was too distracted to notice their arrival and was busy seemingly instructing the four Guards who had patiently waited for them - meanwhile partaking in the ample rations they carried- with arms spread and voice sounding as if he was going to burst into song again. Balin, on the other hand, leaned back on the balls of his feet to get a better look and raised his eyebrows so high it wrinkled his forehead as he did not disguise the fact he was highly intrigued by seeing them return from what he rightfully deducted had been a moment very much alone and away from the group. Judging it best not to make eye-contact lest his Councilor should allow his telling wit to speak on his behalf -again!- he walked straight passed him. Next to him Edúr kept up with a steady pace, equally silent but he was immensely relieved that she had not moved further away or even fled from him once they had reached the others.

Instead he did his very best to keep a respectful distance between himself and the Dwarrow maiden, leading all of them back to the square on the lowest level of the city. Even though he knew he had been too forward when it had just been the two of them at the courtyard, despite his better judgment, despite his plain common sense telling him he should not even think about it, at this very moment he did not care whether it was proper or not and he was determined to make sure no one but him would lift her on that Goat: and not even the most zealously dutiful and gallant of his Warriors would stop him.

~Thank you for reading & I'd love to know what you thought of it! (^-^b)~

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 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _"_ _Azhâr-ê_.." = "My home.."

" _Ya azhâr-zi_." = "It is also your home."

" _Zûr ka-hu_?" = "How can it be?"

" _Yindîn-zi_. _Ni amrâb-zi_. _Ni damâm-zi_. _Ni kurdu-zi_.." = "It is your birthplace. It is in your soul. It is in your blood. It is in your heart.."

 _As always, all the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the amazing website/dictionary of the equally awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Wow, this week's been crazy! Sorry for the wait, RL is being a pain in the proverbial right now but I'm determined not to let that affect my writing this story. At the moment I think I'm updating every other week or so which makes it easier to combine it with school and everything that's been going on demanding my time, hope that works for you guys too! ;) Huge thank you to the favs/follows/reviews!**

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 ** _Robinbird79:_** _Oh it's going to bite them all right, any time now.. hihi I'm so happy you enjoyed the last chapter with Balin's cheeky hinting even though Edúr was still kind of clueless haha and I wanted for Thorin to show her a different side of himself so I totally played the 'cute-toddler-with-broken-toy' card there ;) Thank you for continuing to read and review this story, I appreciate it!_

 ** _Sophia Kaiba:_** _You might get your wish... No promising though, those are two very stubborn dwarves after all.. ;p Thanks for the review!_

 ** _Amadeusan:_** _The fact that you're pleased makes me totally pleased too! :) Hope you'll like this chapter too and thanks for your review!_

 ** _LazyLovedIt:_** _I'm glad you liked Bard &Tilda, even though it was only a brief appearance I hope both were in-character enough, and you're right, he definitely picked up on the fact that Thorin has a soft spot for a certain dwarrowmaiden. And on that note, a certain dwarf king might finally get a whole lot closer to connecting the dots himself on that score.. :) Thanks for another review!_

 ** _Angie:_** _It always puts a smile on my face to read your reviews! It made me feel grateful when you mentioned those things about Thorin &Edúr as well as Tilda and Balin, makes me more confident that I'm somehow managing to do justice to their characters seeing that at the end of the day I'm basically borrowing them from Tolkien ;) I wasn't sure if Balin was too direct but I feel as Thorin's trusted friend and advisor he can't help but want to push him, and let's face it Thorin needs to be pushed because he's too stubborn to move on his own accord haha And between you and me I don't think it was just Edúr who fell more and more for Thorin when he fixed that toy for Tilda, when I was picturing that scene before writing it I couldn't help but grin and bite my lip like a lovesick teenager, haha And maybe that 'wonder' might just be around the corner…_

 ** _coldie voldie:_** _Thank you for such an amazing review! It means the world to me when someone tells me they're really liking the story and especially recognize the effort that goes into it, that's super motivating to hear! I loved the way Thorin's descent into madness because of the gold sickness was portrayed in the movies, which makes me sound like a cruel person I guess, haha, so I wanted to play with that in this story but even though they haven't fully understood what's going on (yet!) between them I hope the fact that Edúr is there to help him get better acquits me of the heinous crime of enjoying his (and her) struggle a little too much ;) Also thanks for wishing me luck on my exams, boy did I need all the luck I could get.. but I actually passed them (miracles happen, yaaay!)!_

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 **Disclaimer:** All rights go to the brilliant Professor Tolkien and super duper awesome director Peter Jackson ;)

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 **Chapter XXV**

LOOKING around her, the abundance of space gave her and her nephew's new abode a hollow feeling she hoped would be of short duration. It was surreal to think her ancestors right up to her own parents had lived in these chambers, never expecting to have to leave it, least of all by banishment, though the coming of the Dragon would have inevitably forced to them to abandoned their home not long after. Despite having placed rugs on the stone floors and hanging tapestries on the bare walls the footsteps of her guests and her own still echoed a little as they followed her completing her round of the Main Chamber. It was hexagonal in shape, with high ceilinged corridors branching of at every corner like spokes on a wheel. If you stepped through these arched entrances you would come to four sparsely furnished bedrooms, a spacious servants' quarters and one small kitchen with a stone table where these would have prepared food and drink for the family as well as eaten their own meals.

Now, with only herself and Niam living here they prepared their own food most of the time and ate it in the kitchen with the one servant Lady Dís had insisted they bring with them from their Guest Quarters. Edúr had changed little in the room where her cradle stood apart from cleaning it thoroughly, and she and her nephew had each taken a bedroom adjoining the other and even though they still had to return to the Main Chamber and turn into the next corridor sharing a wall somehow made both feel they were close enough to be comfortable in the spacious living quarters intended for a larger family of Nobles. The Main Chamber in its own turn was, with its large, lavishly engraved fireplace and broad, marble sofa and chairs, simply too big for them and they too small for it to spend much time there, though Morkai relished the chance to spread his wings in it and hop in and out of the row of tall windows.

Standing in front of these now, with their shutters closed against the cold, reminded her once again of the narrow slits of the Main Hall of her Clan's Keep in the North. Her home... _Was it that still_? It was strangely unnerving that they really had moved back in, that a place of decay and sadness had been made livable again. That these chambers within the City of Erebor belonged to the House of Agor once more, their honor as well as their home restored. It was now free of soot, of the blackened marks and scars, and the cracks in the walls and the pockmarked floor had been mended and cleared of debris. It filled her with a fervid longing to stay, an emotion that was wreaking havoc with her loyalty towards her _barafazrâf_ , towards her _adad_.. But she would be a fool to deny the effect Thorin's words had had on her...

Nearly four weeks had passed since her visit to New Dale, and yet in her thoughts she constantly went back to that one day, especially that one moment, which she had shared with him. After their return to Erebor her time had mostly been swallowed up by her work on the South Wing and no matter how rewarding it was to have that task finally completed, it was equally if not more frustrating that she could not put her finger on that restless feeling she had whenever she remembered what he had said, when she felt again his closeness to her, his fingers nearing her heart and how it clenched in a similar way as when he had retreated them at the last moment..

Edúr more than once had remonstrated herself inwardly for she had no reason to feel neglected by Thorin after their trip. After all, she had seen him almost every day when he came to inquire of Bifur how the repairs were progressing, confessing to her one time he also preferred this part of the Lonely Mountain seeing he wanted to get away from all the Nobles, the Council and even his own Sister who, according to the annoyed King, were all pestering him about the preparations for the Coronation, now but two days away. Balin had been with him too on most of these inspections though for some reason he usually kept to the side and turned to Ori or Bifur -or both at the same time- pointing at something and requiring their explanations, suggestions or advice, she was not sure which, leaving her standing with Thorin.

Edúr soon realized she enjoyed those brief moments for although they would not say much and just amble along satisfied with each other's silent company, it only took one look at his face whenever he would not notice to have her vividly remember how he had stood opposite her and spoke those words..

And yet, when they did sometimes exchange a few words it seemed to be on any topic but New Dale. It confused her that he would not talk of it when there was not any other subject she wanted to talk about more. Not that she knew how she would react if he would, but the longing for Thorin to do so was starting to drive her mad and she more than once cursed her own seeming inability to bring it up herself. It made her feel trapped between so many conflicting emotions it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Let alone to know how to control them and not the other way around and be at their cruel mercy. Perhaps she should not wish this strongly to talk of it for it had greatly unbalanced her, especially his words that this was her home too. It scared her how much she wanted that to be true.. And yet, she still did not know if it was. If it could be. How could it when the fate of her Father was still unknown to her? When she was not sure if what she felt for Thorin had to do with the fact that she had grown loyal to a King she had despised before ever meeting him. But was that all there was to it? They simply had gotten to know each other better? Or was there more.. _Did she want there to be more_..?

Edúr was brought back to the present which she had drifted away from to such a degree she had forgotten all about her the two Dwarves with her when one of them spoke in her commanding yet graceful tone, "Are you planning to come in, Brother, or will you prefer to continue hovering on the threshold with ears strained as you have been for a while now?"

Lady Dís' words made her swivel around to face both her and Balin, they had come to admire and praise the transformation she, Ori and Bifur and his Carvers had brought about. The two of them had seemingly carried on their pleasant conversation even when she had unconsciously lost track of it some time ago rather than pull her from her thoughts. A fate she could no longer escape now that Dís clasped her hands together and turned with earrings tinkling to the door which stood ajar. Heartrate increasing Edúr swallowed in an attempt to keep her nerves from rising to the surface when it was slowly pushed further open and Thorin entered, long, black hair framing his strong, chiseled cheekbones and an unreadable expression on his face.

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The pitch of her tone an octave higher than usual Dís greeted him with a radiant smile that appeared almost victorious, "What a pleasant surprise to have you join us, _nadad_. I take it your meeting with Lord Dâr ended early?"

Thorin nodded absentmindedly and strode over, clenching his teeth as he did so. Of course his Sister had been aware of his presence. He cursed the fact that he had given her an opportunity to make him appear as if he had been lurking about outside on purpose, impolitely eavesdropping like a too curious Dwarrowling with bad manners. And he felt even more annoyed at the realization that only half of that was a lie. He had fully intended to knock and enter the moment he had arrived but hearing Edúr speak in a voice both grave and light as she had talked to Balin and Dís of moving with her nephew to the South Wing had rooted him to the spot. He had not meant to listen in on her words without revealing himself but had apparently done just that.

Her iron-cast determination that had spurred her to restore her Clan's chambers was inspiring and the fragility of her hope to one day truly call Erebor home made Thorin want to barge inside and assure her he would do anything in his power to make this come true. And so, when Edúr had fallen silent after this declaration and he could vaguely hear Balin's kind response and his Sister's support, his thoughts had wandered. It was impossible not to be reminded of the words he had spoken to her in New Dale, causing a spark of hope within him to urge his heart to increase its steady beating as he dared to belief it was this moment that had been foremost in her mind as well when she had spoken thus just now. Thorin felt light with that soaring sensation as he carefully entertained the idea that perhaps he had not been the only one to have replayed that moment all these weeks.. And he _had_ been thinking back on it. At the most inconvenient of times too. When he had been reading contracts and almost signing them only to realize he had not absorbed any of its content and had to start all over again. When he had attended meetings with his Council, missing out on what he suspected had been half of what the Members on it had said. When he had welcomed the flux of Dwarven families having hastened their return for the sole purpose of being able to attend the formal crowning of the King of their old and reclaimed home of Erebor.

Thorin did not know how long he had been standing there, one hand resting against the half opened door leading to the House of Agor's Chambers until it was suddenly only Balin and Dís talking and he heard the latter calling out to him. In fact, at that precise moment he had once again been distracted by the echoes of that very memory of New Dale, as if his heart was steering his mind back in that direction on purpose, just as he had been when he had been going over some dispute within his Court with Lord Dâr and had cut it short so he could finally visit Edúr in the South Wing, hoping she would be there. Though he wisely did not mention that detail as he finally stepped inside and answered his Sister, "You still have the ears of a fox, _nana'_.. And yes, we reached an agreement sooner than expected."

"Indeed." Was her short reply, somehow she had always possessed that unsettling talent to have one word sound both as a statement to neutral bystanders as well as a stinging question to his ears alone. As a result Thorin did not need the subtle and barely perceptible arching of one brow to know she challenged the truth of what he had said. He should have realized that Lord Dâr's reputation for being obstinate and rather longwinded in his speeches along with his own dogged refusal to give in to the Dwarf provided her with more than enough reason for that. Deciding that the best policy was to ignore all this he simply went on in his own defense for her preceding accusation, spoken in jest or not, "And I did not hover outside listening without making my presence known, as you put it, but was simply unsure whether I would be intruding now that the lady Edúr had guests already." He prayed to Mahal that had sounded convincing enough for all Dwarves present though he feared for a moment that he had not been able to keep the disappointment he felt at not finding her alone from his voice.

"Guests you have known your entire life and would not object to you joining them, nor would you I am sure, lass?" Balin remarked cheerily, deliberately drawing Edúr into the conversation when she had up to now not stirred and yet appeared unmistakably restless all the same. His heart instantly started to hammer against his ribs. _Should he not have come_..?

Edúr soon shook her head, looking at Balin rather than at him but the motion had relief instantly spread through him nonetheless, "No, of course not."

With a considerable amount of will power Thorin restrained the smile that came to his lips, he was well aware of Dís observing him a little too closely though she was pretending not to. Finally, what seemed to him infinitely longer than the brief silence it must have been, she cleared her throat, moving away as she spoke, "Well, seeing that you are here.. Balin, would you be so kind and come with me to the Council Chamber now Thorin no longer has need for it? I wish to consult with you on seating arrangements for the ceremony, as you know you are more patient with making sure the proper hierarchy is observed, I would not wish to slight any of the Nobles for we need their continuing support."

"I will gladly assist you my Lady, together with your more acute awareness of their sensitivities, I am sure we can work things out between us." Balin was quick to reply, adding warmly while dipping his head and bending his back in his bouncy sort of bow in Edúr's direction, "We thank you for your hospitality, my dear. Be assured we will both gladly return often to your new residence."

"And I would be happy to receive you." She told him, smiling at Dís too who tilted her head with her usual elegance in goodbye before she and Balin made for the door. Seeing through her -or perhaps both of their- scheme Thorin nevertheless stepped aside to let them through, knowing even though his Sister might not that he had overheard how she and his Councilor had been discussing seating arrangements already at great length during dinner yesterday. Seeing Ori, Bifur and Edúr had been too busy with finishing up their work in the South Wing to have attended it and he had only half participated in Dwalin and Dain's talk of a new design for axes, had caused him to involuntarily pay attention to that discussion. Wondering to himself if, looking back, he was indeed showing all the signs of becoming a habitual eavesdropper the sound of the heavy door falling into place again made him stir and direct himself to Edúr instead.

"It seems I am the last to congratulate you on fulfilling such an arduous and honorable task as this." He said casting a pleased look around the large room, not caring he sounded every bit as proud of her as he felt, "I am sorry I could not come and see it for myself before now."

"Had you come but an hour earlier and it would not have been fit to be seen." She hastened to assure him of the needlessness of his regret.

"You have done admirably." He told her, reveling in the myriad of tiny sparks that lit up in the depths of her blue eyes because of his praise, adding with heartfelt sincerity, "I know what it is like to have to build a new life. It took me a long while to consider the Blue Mountains as home after losing my real one, but I did.."

Thorin simply regarded her as a silence enveloped them afterwards. A tentative smile played around the corners of her mouth but there was something missing. Those little lights slowly but inevitably receded from her eyes again, leaving a wavering uncertainty in their wake. His heart becoming twice its usual weight, Thorin felt a surge of hurt go through him when he realized what she must be thinking of.

"Do not worry about a future without purpose now that this is finished." He hastened to put her mind at ease, her visible comfort at hearing him say this at once lifting that heavy feeling that had pressed unforgivingly on his chest, "We will find something that suits you. I will do everything I can to assure you have a future here. With me. With us, that is. All of us.."

For a moment her eyes widened and he felt an enthralling tingle shooting up his spine now it instantly replaced the self-reproach he had been on the verge of embarking on when he had spoken so unambiguously no matter how he had tried to amend for it by emphasizing not just he himself but everyone of the Company, his Sister too, would always support her.

Edúr folded her hands together, a grateful smile finally and truly breaking through, lighting up her entire face, "Thank you."

Thorin instinctively gave in to the impulse to mirror that enticing curve of her lips, those whispered words that had passed it releasing yet another barrage of thrills to travel through his entire body but he would not stop them. _He could not stop them_.. And for the first time he realized he really did not want them to either..

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She trembled under his intense gaze, feeling as connected to him as she had when he had guided her across the square upon their arrival in New Dale. But the sensation had, if possible, grown even stronger as she now understood it as something she had harbored inside for a much longer time. It had been there, ever stirring in her chest and slowly taking over her heart more and more with every moment she had spent in his presence. Thorin continued to look at her but something in the way his eyes narrowed told her he was pondering on something, perhaps even weighing whether or not to voice his next thoughts. It filled her with sheer rapture to see him one moment exuding what had seemed unbridled confidence then the next to hesitate slightly, brightened gray eyes cutting back from left to right. She should not take delight in watching him struggle to find the right words. _But she did_..

"You will come?" He finally asked her, the slight furrowing of her brows enough to prompt him to elaborate further, "To the Coronation, I mean. There is a feast after the ceremony. I would be honored should you attend both."

"If you wish it." She accepted the invitation evenly, relishing how Thorin at first opened his mouth, confusion briefly marring his looks before he saw through her teasing. Instead of saying something, no doubt feeling that would be too much of a reward for testing him, he growled his approval, a deep reverberating sound scraping the back of his throat and making his eyes glistening with pleasure. Her courage almost failed her at perceiving it no matter how emboldened she had felt but a moment ago. Edúr was sure her face must be burning a revealing red but, ignoring the glow she felt on her cheeks, she attempted to regain control of her befuddled mind and steer the conversation into safer waters, "I assume the preparations are all but finished?"

This time her apparent bashfulness made it his turn to gloat, "Yes. Yes they are. _Mahal_ be thanked." He huffed out a laugh, though there was a hint of apologetic uneasiness as he went on, "Though I have tried to steer clear from them, no doubt shirking my responsibilities as ruler. Nevertheless, I'm told the decorations in the Gallery are surpassing legend already."

"You have not seen this for yourself yet?" She probed cautiously.

Thorin shook his head in something close to defeat, making her heart throb all the more painfully all of a sudden, "No, I have not. The floor of the Gallery.. It- It holds a particularly unpleasant memory for me.. And with it covered wholly in gold.." His voice trailed off, seemingly sobering him as he confessed, "I have not been there all these past weeks. Thought it best not to tempt myself.."

His honesty made Edúr reign in her own playfulness, a sincere wish to somehow offer him the same kind of support he had promised her in finding a future task for her here in Erebor taking its place, "Would you not rather face what you fear now? Together.."

"You would accompany me?" The slight tremor in his voice seemed to betray the genuine surprise as well as the hopeful gratitude she saw reflected in his eyes at her suggestion. While she understood his hesitance to be born from a regard for her safety and his own turmoil at the prospect of a sea of gold underfoot as all of his people, hundreds of Dwarves, would all look at him, it did cause a stab to go through her heart. It hurt her more than she cared to admit out loud that he would see all of that as a reason to fear she would not offer her help when she had promised to do so from that very first moment she had found him suffering from Dragon Sickness. It was not that even though she had seen him at his worst she still now offered her help. It was _because_ she had seen the strongest Dwarf she knew weakened and yet not give up that she offered it to him again, longing for him to accept, "I would." She answered him, determination seeping into her voice, "I will."

Allowing her resolve to take control she clenched her fists as she walked passed him, only looking back expectantly once she had reached the door. The challenging grin on her face finally convinced Thorin to follow and he came over with firm strides, pushing the heavy stone door further open and holding it for her so she could step outside first. Edúr was sure she would not soon get enough of the fervid satisfaction she experienced now he had obeyed her, how he had instinctively understood her subtle waiting for him and come without having to think about it twice. He fell into step next to her and together they set out with equally purposeful treads though it required most of their attention to weave their way through the crowded halls and passageways when everywhere Dwarves were running to and fro, busy as they were with the final preparations. With all of the surrounding activity also came the distinct advantage that no one paid them any heed so they managed not to lose their way or each other as they made for the Gallery of Kings and before long they had crossed through half of Erebor to arrive there.

As she stepped over the threshold and into the deserted and vast Gallery beyond, her shoulder grazed Thorin's as he froze in his tracks and remained behind. Edúr took a few steps before turning around, the sight of him standing determined yet unmistakably wary a mesmerizing one to behold. He looked once again effortlessly regal, as if it was in his very bones and he could not but appear so. He was wearing a dark, high-collared overcoat with golden thread along the edges weaving intricate patterns as they crawled up the lower part of his sleeves too that were made of cuffs which were simple leather bands while his two fine braids mingled with his raven black hair, the two silver beads gleaming in the warm, yellowish glow shining up from below. He swayed slightly, grasping the marble pillar next to him to keep standing though his eyes widened as they took in the immense vastness of pure gold stretching out before his feet, making him waver and sink to one knee.

"I am sorry for involving you in this.. For having you bear this burden with me.." He said in a raw, regretful voice, his expression earnest, sad even.

"It is not." She answered him, not knowing why she felt so calm but reveling in that new found sense of security and purpose all the same. Thorin made a soft guttural noise that came from deep within, jaw flexing as he looked fixedly at her, demanding her to be honest with him and not spare his feelings.

Edúr nodded in serene compliance, taking a deep breath as she readied herself for what she wanted, perhaps even needed, to say to him, "It is not a burden I cannot bear. I am stronger than I look, or so my father always told me, and I needed to be told that, especially after.. After the death of _amad_."

Thorin's shoulders tensed ever so slightly but he steadily held her gaze as she went on, a knot in her stomach that had always been there unraveling now it was the first time after many long years since she had told anyone of this, "One day when I was still very young she did not come back from a patrol. They had been overrun.. There simply had been too many Orcs for them to win but rather than retreat, to return and get reinforcements that would give away the position of our Keep, they stood their ground and fought. Fought until the end. None of them returned. _She_ did not return." Edúr swallowed down a lump in her throat, forcing her voice to come out strong afterwards, "I did not talk for days, hid in a corner of my room. And then my father came, held out his hand to me, took mine in his own and pulled me to my feet. He supported me in his strong arms and swirled me around in a dance with just the two of us that made me believe my fresh grief would be bearable one day. He made me laugh again, made me feel alive again, not give in to cower for fear of the sadness and anger in my heart. For the first time in my life you make me feel proud, hopeful, that I can live up to my father's expectation, prove him right in his steadfast belief in my strength. He lent me his when I needed it. Let me do the same for you now."

A pleading edge to her words Edúr took a step in his direction, holding out her hand to him. Thorin tilted his head so his long hair fell over his shoulder, baring collarbones and his throat. He glanced at the floor, his face basked in its faint light, then he looked back at her, the fever that had been trying to take a hold of him fading away from his eyes that instead of a sickly yellow got back their gray sheen. She held her breath when he reached out for her hand, clasping it with his own and slowly rising to stand once again firmly on both feet. His chest heaved up and down again when he inhaled deeply as if he could freely do so again for the first time in many Moons of constriction.

Still holding his hand Edúr took a step back without turning around but instead kept facing Thorin. She took another. And another. He instinctively responded to the pull and followed, taking a step in her direction for each that she took away from him. Then he stood still, anchoring her as well now he held her back by her hand. Her arms shivered as goosebumps appeared on her skin, the strange tension she could swear crackled the very air around them making her tremble, but she did not want to move away. Thorin closed the gap between them, holding out his free hand palm up. He did not need to put his request into words, his intention radiated off of him in almost palpable waves. Edúr didn't say anything, not even nodded but simply placed her other hand in his. He pulled her closer and snaked his arm around her waist, his fingers sprawled against her lower back and making her place her freed hand on his chest. Her breath inadvertently hitched when she could feel the tendrils of his muscles move under her fingers as he guided her over the floor in slow, beguiling swirls and bewitching turns that had her body press even more to his. Edúr was now so close to him that she could make out the runes of his tattoo that ran across his chest, alluringly visible with his dark green tunic that was cut in a low v-line. She felt his heart pounding against her palm in which his warmth seeped more and more.

And then they stood still. His braids swayed ever so slightly, the beads tinkling softly. She felt the side of her face tingling as his breath touched it, her body may have stopped spinning but her heart had not. No thought had power over her mind anymore as she stared into those gray depths and she could have lost herself in admiring their silver specks and mysterious glistening. Edúr followed his eyes as he lowered his gaze to rest on her lips and lifted it back up to lock with hers again. Thorin came closer still, one racing heart pressed against the other, and leaned forward until she felt the prickly and insanely pleasing sensation of his short beard against her chin..

* * *

~Thank you for reading & I'd love to know your thoughts on this chapter! (^-^b)~

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 **A/N: I guess I just hit you guys with a sort of semi-cliffie by cutting it right there when it gets interesting.. hehe I'm so mean! ;) **

**Khuzdul translations:**

 _barafazrâf = clan_

 _adad_ _= father_

 _nadad = brother_

 _nana' = sister_

 _As always, all the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the super handy website/dictionary of the amazing Dwarrow Scholar!_


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Yes! Thank Mahal it's weekend, I love sleeping in on Saturdays &Sundays and finally having the time for checking out all those amazing stories people are posting for this fandom. Thank you so much for the follows/favs/reviews, they are what keep me going! :D  
**

 **Angie:** _haha yes, that was a little mean of me, wasn't it? ;) Thank you for letting me know you felt as if you were there with the characters, feeling the tension, that's my goal for writing! And, yes, he is really sweet when he's struggling for words, isn't he? Hihi ;) Thank you for your review!_

 **DD:** _Thanks! So glad you loved it! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter too! :)_

 **LazyLovedIt:** _I know, I know, that cliffie was slightly evil of me haha ;) Yes, Thorin slipped up and gave himself away there with that sentence huh, had me laugh at the poor dwarf too! Thank your for reviewing and for motivating me to keep going with this story!_

 **Riss94:** _Thank you for your compliment on how detailed my story is, I'm a sucker for details even if it means writing takes a loooong time as a result haha ;)Thank you for your review and I hope you like the next chapter(s) too!_

 **Amadeusan:** _Thank you for leaving me a review! I'm glad you were melting too when you read that, I got a little hot too writing about tattoos and beating hearts haha ;)Sorry to have been so cruel to cut the chapter at that romantic moment but I'll promise there'll be more of those soon!_

 **Sophia Kaiba:** _hehe, yes of course I had to ruin that romantic moment between those two by having others walk in, don't want to make it too easy for them! ;) I'm glad you thought it was a cute chapter! Thanks for reviewing!_

 **Robinbird79:** _So glad you feel that that scene between Thorin and Edúr worked, I wanted her helping him with Dragon Sickness be believable but not take forever either haha And yes, leaving it there was a tad evil of me, I admit ;) thanks for the review!_

 **Disclaimer:** All rights go to the brilliant Professor Tolkien and super duper awesome director Peter Jackson… oh and the wonderful actors that brought all those amazing characters to life! ;)

 **Chapter XXVI**

HE was under a spell. He must be. It was not caused by the warm gleam of gold upon which he stood. Which was splattered on the feet of the tall pillars of the Gallery. Which surrounded him but did not invade his mind. Nor pierce his heart. Its lustrous radiance merely served to lend a brilliant hue to her amber hair. To kindle a fire in those eyes the color of water. Even in the presence of that rich and enticing layer covering ancient stone he was more drawn to her than he ever had been before. And yet, Thorin did not think he had ever been so at ease with her obvious power over him. Perhaps it was because she seemed to respond just as strongly to his touch as he did to hers. He had felt her tremble when his arm had circled her waist which in turn had had sparks shooting up his spine. He gingerly had enveloped her hand as she had placed it in his palm. Had seen her visibly tense up not with apprehension but with something so akin to longing he dared not hope she was filled with the same desire raging through his blood to be even closer than they already were.

Her story had deeply affected him. He had listened to her words, clinging to every single one of them when the overwhelming shimmer of gold had initially disorientated him, making him sink to one knee. And then, when the fog in his head had threatened to further numb his senses despite his effort to fight it she had held out her hand to him. And he had looked entranced at his beacon of hope, making him oblivious to anything else, at once saturating his hunger after gold, his urge to hoard more treasures and instead replaced it with a very different yearning. Edúr had given him the strength to stand on his feet again. Had been his anchor when he had feared to drown- No. She had been much more than that. She _was_ more than that.. Her hand holding on to his as she had pulled him slowly but without hesitation to step deeper into the Hall of his forbears had made him feel grounded, had made him remember who he was and who he could be.. _How could he resist to dance with her there and then_?

He now held her as tenderly as he could and yet increasingly tightened their embraced as they slowly whirled around each other, the movement itself was like the weaving of an enchantment and Thorin did not know whether it was one of his making or hers. Not that it mattered. It only made him yearning to have her in his arms thus forever. Their dance had no pattern but it did not need one for he simply let the loud beating of his heart guide him and he could swear it resonated with hers. And she followed his steps as they spun around each other ever so slowly though it still had her chestnut colored dress moved around her ankles, its fabric rustling slightly, the sound of which somehow made blood pump through his veins faster. The velvet garment shimmered and gracefully flowed to the ground, the long sleeves of the white blouse she wore underneath rippled, falling down her wrists, the skin ivory like her face. A fragile, slanted braid covered her forehead, falling in front of one ear before joining her loose hair, a row of bronze clasps held it in place, glimmering in the glow of gold that made them appear to melt with the amber waves.

Thorin let his gaze stray from those captivating blue orbs, it traveled down to the smooth curve of her neck where normally her hair would spill over, then to her slightly parted lips which had a powerful tingle shake the very core of his being. His eyes shot back up to lock with hers again and they slowly came to a halt. Knowing propriety alone forbade him to let the desire raging through him take over he nevertheless leaned towards her. He bent his back and lowered his head so it was less than an inch from her cheek as he tilted it slightly. For one blissful moment he forgot about everything else around him as his lips lightly crazed hers and he was instantly enraptured by their taste an suppleness.

He was about to shove decorum aside - _for what power could it hope to have over his passion for the Dwarrowmaid in his arms_?- and truly seal their kiss when the sound of many a footstep made him blink for the briefest of moments and hold back. Next instant his sudden hesitation made Edúr take a step back to face the sound of approaching Dwarves. Although Thorin knew he was still very much under her spell the renewed distance between them made him feel as if he had been rudely awoken from a dreamlike trance he really did not want to end. Before he could do or say anything the footsteps grew louder and a group led by none other than his Sister entered the Gallery of Kings.

Upon perceiving them, perhaps Dís most of all, he felt Edúr hurriedly free herself of his already loosened hold on her and he powerlessly watched her incline her head in a flustered goodbye and hasten away. His heart clenched painfully when she fled from his side and passed the others who barely had time to register who it was that removed herself so quickly and bashfully from their midst. A part of him was instantly filled with regret, perhaps even more so with a longing to rewind time and be if only for a moment longer caught in that thrilling sensation of almost kissing her. Another part stubbornly clung to the irrational hope he would again have her lips pressed against his, far longer than the brief brush just now. If not, he feared he would not readily overcome the ghost of that enticing touch which was already tormenting his very soul now that they had been interrupted.

Conflicted as he was, he could not help but also feel elevated and Thorin could only just contain the pure happiness whirling inside, almost bursting out regardless of his struggles for self control. Despite his effort, however, Dís looked rather smug as she dismissed the flock of Nobles who had followed in her wake with an authoritative flick of her hand. The Dwarves immediately dispersed throughout the vast Gallery, busying themselves with no shortage of self-importance and vain pride to complete the tasks that their Princess had set them. She strode on, unfazed by inquisitive glances and strained ears of the Dwarves around them until she stood before him, "I had not expected to find you here, _nadad_. Pray forgive my ill-timed intrusion." She sounded truly regretful and yet wholly satisfied at the same time.

"I could say the same of you." He replied defensively, knowing that he might have been able to not take the bait this time but he would no doubt succumb to her undeniable insight before long. _Did he really still care about admitting she had been right_? A lump formed in his throat at the realization. _His Sister had been right all this time_.. _But that meant_.. _It had to mean_..

"So are you going to tell me why you and Lady Edúr were here?" Dís inquired in a lowered voice so as to not be overheard, as a result it took him a moment to have her words reach him and drag him from his pensiveness.

"Aren't you?" Thorin countered, more to give himself time to stop trembling all over. To regain control of himself now it felt as if the foundation upon which he had built himself had changed. Had already been changed without him knowing it.

"Why would I need to do that when you already know what I am going to say?" The intimidating Dwarrowdam crossed her arms, looking demandingly at him.

"You're persistent, _nana'-ê_."

"Well, I daresay that runs in the family. And a good thing too, for you'll need every ounce of it that you possess for your stubborn heart to win from your even more stubborn mind."

He had been of a mind to sidestep her, had spurred himself to move and leave before he would tell her all but her fervor stopped him. She had effortlessly picked up on the flicker of truth in his eyes and her annoyance instantly ebbed away at the sight. Thorin felt she had once again unraveled his thoughts without him speaking them aloud.

"But perhaps I underestimated the first and it won't be that much longer before you see sense after all. The Kingdom would indeed have cause to rejoice tomorrow if perhaps they will see a Queen take her place beside you..?"

Thorin stirred, seized by a restlessness now he was too vulnerable as well as too glad of his discovery about the true extent of his feelings, both prompting him to let go of his constraint, "I do not wish to wed out of duty but-" He paused, hesitating to speak the words on his lips, but if he could not admit this to his own Sister, how could he ever hope to say it to Edúr..? He briefly pressed a fist against his mouth, gathering the courage he needed and when he had, when he did speak, he put all of his fervid determination in his voice, "But out of _love_.."

He had trembled at the end of that sentence, a sensation that did not stop when he saw her eyes, that gray hue belonging to the Line of Durin, momentarily sheen over with tears as his words, as his confession, sank in. Dís' lips parted in a watery smile and she took a step closer, placing one hand on his chest, the other clutching the pendant around her neck for support, "One does not necessarily exclude the other. _Aznâg_ , _nadad_. _Kurdu-zu aktub ith-thurku_. _Akrud hû._ "

Choked up as he was, it was impossible to answer her. Instead he enveloped her hand with both of his own, squeezing it in gratitude.

She squinted in appreciation and also to blink back the tears still gathering in the corners of her eyes, whispering with a heartfelt urgency, "You must tell her."

Thorin nodded, finding himself once more unable to force out a reply through his thickened throat. He gave her hands one final squeeze then left. It strangely amused him how his pride still, after all that had happened, hated to admit it, and _Mahal_ forbid she ever found out just how much this was true, but deep down he finally knew his Sister to be right. He felt a fool for not realizing it sooner. He knew what it was that he felt for Edúr. And had felt for a while now. If he but said the words. If she but accepted them. Then he did not doubt he would willingly relinquish command of his heart, faltering as it had been ever since the day he had met her, and he would now gladly offer it to Edúr, Daughter of Edrík, the Dwarrow maiden that had been locked in his embrace only moments before. His heart throbbed wildly in his chest at the realization, perhaps more so that it was already hers whether she would want it to be or not. As much as that scared him it was too late to undo this. A smile forced its way to his lips but he did not care if anyone saw, his step was lighter than it ever had been, his mind clear as a cut diamond, his heart filled with flames that would make it burn more strongly than he had ever thought possible, not consume it like that other fierce love that would have ultimately always betrayed him.. He _finally_ knew. He _finally_ understood. _She was his One_..

* * *

She had only just started on her way to her own chamber with a wavering hope to calm the erratic throbbing of her heart, when the path forward was blocked. Floppy hat sitting at a strangely lopsided angle on his dark brown hair, the Head of the Miner's Guild stood in the middle of the deserted corridor.

"Aha!" He exclaimed the moment he recognized her as if had just caught her doing something she should not be doing. Bofur at once placed his hands demonstratively on his hips.

"Couldn't resist a glimpse, could ya?" He accused her jauntily.

"W-What?" Edúr stammered back, the embarrassment that already dominated her mood now joined by utter confusion.

"Why, the Gallery of course!" Bofur explained boisterously, spreading his arms wide, "My niece Freya, Bombur's oldest lass if you recall, has assisted with the decorations herself. Says they transformed the place, restored it to the splendor and glory of old, not that I remember much of that meself." He added with a playful wink. Edúr did not know what to say to him, she had been at a loss for words before, and more times than she dared to remember, in the presence of a certain Dwarf but there was no reason why they should elude her now.

"Came to take a peek and see for your own eyes if there's truth to those rumors, have ya?" Bofur probed, as of yet unaware of her absence of mind and throwing her a conspiratorially look -hazel color eyes sparkling with joyous mischief- as if he had been planning the very same thing.

"Uh.. Y-yes. Yes. I.. I did." She mumbled her reply, not proud of the half-lie but not seeing what else she could have said. What other reason she could have given for her coming out of the Gallery of Kings when she could not possible confess to the real one.. When she could not even explain to herself what had just happened.

"Well..?" Bofur jovially prodded her after her prolonged silence, dragging her back to the present when the tingling she still felt on her lips where Thorin's had brushed them had threatened to take over. The miner took a step towards her, lifting a finger in mock warning, "Don't keep the secret to yerself now!"

Feeling as if her emotions were clearly readable on her face the word 'secret' alone now made her swallow hard and take an instinctive step back as he approached her, "It is true. The Gallery has greatly changed. It now looks.. Um.. It looks more attractive-" Bofur's brows twitched upwards, making her quickly amend that statement, fearing it was but all too obviously not referring to the huge hall, "Beautiful. More beautiful than any other Halls of Feasts I have ever set foot in."

Her far from coherent answer made the miner tilt his head as he clearly questioned her ambiguous behavior, "Yes.." He drawled, cheeky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I can see they made quite the impression on you."

At that moment the unmistakable voice of the King drifted into the hallway in which they stood and Edúr's instant tensing up more than anything else caused his grin to morph into a knowing smirk instead.

"Though perhaps your skimpy account of them is simply the result of your attention having been occupied elsewhere.." He wiggled his brows suggestively at this, almost making Edúr wish she could pull the hat over his eyes and make a run for it. Her troubled expression and obvious inability to counter with a denying quip soon had Bofur sober up a little, "You all right there, lass?"

She nodded unconvincingly, wanting to give in to the urge to hasten to her own room for the seclusion it could offer her at a moment when her heart still reverberated so strongly with the desire to be back in _his_ arms. To not have their kiss interrupted before it could even be called that. But then she was also afraid of giving in to that longing, after all, she had never before felt so powerless to stop it from taking over. _Should she be scared and take a step back_? _Is that what she wanted_? Something inside her stirred in such protest at this thought that she took a hurried intake of breath to steady herself.

"I bet you're just nervous about the Ball." Bofur told her from a kind but misguided conviction that it would help her feel less unreasonably warm and upset. Not just with herself but also with his teasing now he so obviously was alluding to the very cause of her agitation, getting gradually closer to the truth too.

"You sure ya don't need a Healer to look at ya? You do look a tad feverish, if ye don't mind me sayin'.." There was a hint of genuine concern in the miner's voice but Edúr fervently shook her head, "That won't be necessary, Master Bofur, but I thank you for-"

Ignoring her dismissal Bofur closed the gap between them and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead before she could stop him.

"By my beard! You're as hot as a forge!" He called out in surprise, eyes widening, "you sure you don't want me to get Oin for ya?"

The voice of Thorin was a little louder now, responding it seemed as he was to the requests of others with him in the Gallery though she could not make out what was being said but the blush she felt creeping up on her cheeks told the Dwarf in front of her all he needed to know.

"I must go." She forestalled anything he could have been wanting to say on the subject, hoping against hope that the understanding threatening to dawn on him any second now could still be undone if she but left without having to lie her way out. If she was honest with herself she was not sure that she would be able to deny what her heart seemed to constantly whisper in her ears.

"Yes.. Yes. Of course. Don't let me stop you lass." Bofur gave in, hands raised in surrender. She gave him a grateful look than hurried passed him. She had not yet turned the corner when the miner called out to her one last time, "Oh. Lady Edúr."

She slowly turned around to face him, nerves spiking at the chance of having Thorin walk over the threshold any moment, though her impatience to postpone that encounter she both yearned for and dreaded did not make her willing to be rude to the good-natured miner.

"You are not the first Dwarf to grow fidgety in anticipation of a grand ceremony. I know some that are less intimidated by the war cries of Orcs on the onset of a great battle than they are by a summoning to a large feast filled to the brim with pretentious pomp and formal dancing.."

At first she furrowed her brows, not fully understanding what Bofur was talking about, or rather who he was referring to, but soon she could interpret the uncannily accurate imitation of Dwalin as he screwed up his face in an uncharacteristic scowl that on him looked comical rather than intimidating, and his crossed arms, inflated chest and defiant stance removed all remaining doubt in one go.

"Even the boldest Warrior knows fear," Bofur pointed out with feigned solemnity, adding with his trademark cheek, "as does the _baldest_."

Edúr felt her lungs contract and a laugh escaped her despite the whirlwind of emotions still raging through her, evoking a broad smile to split the miner's face.

"I'm sure it's nothing a good night's rest can't solve. Mark my words. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Thank you, Bofur. Good night."

He blithely tipped his hat at and bent his back in a half bow, "Sweet dreams, my Lady."

Edúr had barely time to return his gesture of goodbye, there was movement behind him and the sound of firm footsteps coming their way grew in volume. She dipped her head and swiveled around, not yet breaking into a run but retreating as fast as her feet could carry her, praying that the blush still reddening her face would have had the time to fade before she got to the South Wing for she could not now lie to her Cousin about the source for that both happy and miserable glow.

* * *

How he had cursed the Nobles that had claimed his time when he wanted to do nothing more than hasten after Edúr in the hope of arranging a time and place in which they could speak privately. A part of him felt he would even have spilled out his heart to her the moment he caught up to her. But he had not. The Lords and Ladies of the Court who had followed Dís into the Gallery of Kings had delayed his exit from it and by the time he had left it she had been long gone. The only one he had run straight into had been Bofur who, for reasons he could not fathom, looked extremely pleased about something though when he had asked him the reason for it or why he had even come this way the miner had remained stoically and uncharacteristically quiet, merely shrugging with a smirk on his face that only grew wider upon seeing his own impatience. Not in the mood to indulge the whims of the Dwarf, be he member of the Company or not, Thorin had stalked passed him. But no matter how he had searched, wandered and despaired he had not found Edúr in the hallways branching off from the one leading to the Gallery, or anywhere near.

He had reluctantly given up and retreated to his room, letting the servants know no one was to disturb him. If he could not talk to her directly at that moment he had been determined to at least try and write down the words he wanted to say to her. He _needed_ to say to her. And so he had stayed up most of the night, only getting a few hours rest, if it could even be called that, when he had constantly woken with a start from a restless doze until the first light of dawn had trickled into his room. He cast an unhappy glance at his desk, at the collection of crumpled balls of parchment scattered over its surface which instantly reminded him how he had grown frustrated with the impossibility of the task of pouring his heart out in ink.

He reluctantly and with a heightened sense of embarrassment also recalled that at one point he had even made his way to the South Wing, had stood in front of the heavy door leading to the quarters belonging to the House of Agor only to realize it was well into the night by that time. Even though he had apparently lost all sense of it, he could not possibly wake her with a half finished speech that he had already forgotten most of. On top of that the words that he had committed to paper and not crushed in his fist or thrown straight into the fire yet seemed hardly adequate in retrospect.

And so he had forced himself to withhold from knocking on the thick slab of stone and to return to his own bedchamber. There he had paced in front of the hearth, rehearsing the words that he desperately tried to delve from deep within him, but it would not do. It seemed he would not be allowed to prepare for this. He had to speak from his heart knowing and at the same time not knowing what he was going to say..

Disregarding the fact that it was still very early, that the morning was still too young for him to feel this disinclined to go back to a fitful sleep, awake as he was now he had no choice but to untangle himself from the sheets and get up. He revived a little as he guzzled down the warm, dark brew only just removed from the stove by a servant who he feared he had scared almost enough to have him jump out of his skin when he had entered the kitchen without knocking. The inside of his throat still burning pleasantly because of the hot drink, Thorin left the Royal Chambers and set out for the Rookery. It had become a habit of late to get news directly from the few Ravens of _Bâha-zunsh-hund_ that still lingered there, or rather those that had returned now the winter was in retreat though one look outside at the snow-covered landscape would not suggest it. But the white blanket of ice-crystals was in fact melting, the land underneath was thawing and the snowstorm that the Dwarves who could read the weather of the world predicted would undoubtedly be the last battle the dark, cold season would put up to ward off Spring just a little bit longer.

He relied on the wise Birds' leader, Roäc Son of Carc, or any of the messengers that he send in his place to Erebor every day for a report on anything that was amiss and posed a potential threat. And he had recently acquired good reason to look in that particular direction for any sign of danger. Not too long ago Balin had come to him, old, dusty parchment roll clutched in one hand, his pocket glass in the other. When ascertaining the condition of all of the wisdom collected in the Library he had stumbled upon the nearly faded blueprints of a long forgotten tunnel running from the very center of the Lonely Mountain to Ravenhill. Although it was far from certain whether it really was there or had simply been a plan by his ancestors that never came to be executed, it had been enough to make him feel very uncomfortable with even the slightest of possibilities that it did, in fact, exist. And so Thorin had had no trouble in taking his Councilor's advice seriously and had acted accordingly in garnering the help from the Raven's watchful eyes. As soon as the snowstorm had passed he would dispatch a patrol of his best and sturdiest Warriors to station themselves among the ruined watch tower to look out for enemies and find the entrance to the tunnel at all costs: if it _was_ there, they needed to know where and secure it without ay further delay..

Thorin continued to ascend long-winding, steep flights of stairs, climbing ever higher to the top level of the Mountain with firm, purposeful strides. He would be lying to himself if he thought only about whatever report would await him once he reached the Rookery. Even though it was very much the cramped, drafty but undisputed territory of the old, withered Master of Ravens, the peculiar Dwarf preferred his hermit life to mingling with all the bustle of the city below him and most of the time did not even look up whenever he would enter his lonely domain. It was its isolation from the rest of Erebor that Thorin felt he in was in need of. Maybe the tangible solitude he usually found in that windswept place, among softly cawing Ravens as he looked out from the gaping, unglazed arches hewn roughly in the Mountain's outer layer, would help him to gather to courage and above all the control he needed to have his heart guide what words needed to pass his lips in her presence.

After all, in all honor he could no longer conceal his intentions and he had to speak them out loud to the one person that concerned them. He knew now he could not hope to resist her but he should not risk her reputation and his own because of that. It was unthinkable. There were strict rules for courting. The scarcity of Dwarrowdams alone was enough reason to have those. He as King had even more hurdles to take, consequences to consider, restrictions to deal with. Thorin did not even know all of the particularities involved for he had never concerned himself with them. Or rather he had never dared hope that one day he might have a need to. After all, he had believed the Line of Durin would be continued by his Sister-Sons.

Being a witness to the happiness of that young family, growing so close to his Nephews that he considered them the most precious gift Mahal had ever given the descendants of that mighty Dwarflord, had allowed him to ignore the longing he did feel to have a wife and children of his own. He had not thought that to be his fate. He still could hardly believe that it might one day be. It both raised his hope of receiving that precious happiness he had seen in his Sister's eyes when she had found her One, back in the Blue Mountains, and filled him with dread as he also remembered the immense pain his parting from this world had caused, was _still_ causing Dís. And now his Sons had joined their father in the Halls of Waiting and his Sister had remained behind. Had lost her family. And yet she had still encouraged him to follow his heart in this case, had pushed him to open his eyes to clearly see what was before him. And he _did_ see now. Even the prospect of loss, of having to miss those close to him like his Grandfather, Father, Sister-Husband and his Nephews, would still not make him able to give up on what he felt for Edúr. With everything that had happened he now truly understood the hurt but also the infinite blessing that it was to love and he was determined to share it with the one Dwarrowmaiden that had made him feel so much of it..

"Thorin!" The loud echoes of a gruff, booming voice that bounced off the smoothed walls hemming in the narrow, winding path leading evermore upwards, made him abruptly stop in his tracks. Judging by the large, somewhat impatient strides with which the Commander of his Warriors caught up with him, he must have been calling to get his attention more than once.

"On your way to the Rookery?" Dwalin inquired stiffly, the terse tone of his voice as always not an indication of a sour mood but simply the way he spoke seeing he had spent the greater part of his life risking it battling Orc, Bandits and other filth.

"Yes. I am." Thorin answered him truthfully as the other Dwarf fell into step next to him. The moment he had resumed his route, however, his thoughts instantly returned to what they had been circling around before Dwalin had interrupted them. He was only half aware of what his friend was telling him about how the training and organization of Erebor's growing Army was going and was pondering over a very different matter entirely. _How was he going to tell her_? _And when_? _He hated this sense of wasting time.._

"-you are ready, then?"

"Ready?" Thorin repeated, attention pulled back by Dwalin's question he had only caught the last part of.

"I take it everything is arranged by now?"

"A-arranged..?" Mind still very much occupied with the declaration he wanted to make to a certain Dwarfmaid, he could not help but interpret the meaning of that word with a certain paranoia making him wonder whether Dwalin had been reading his very thoughts, "I.. I know now I should have done this sooner but I feel it is too early to claim everything is settled.."

The hardened Warrior looked utterly nonplussed with that answer, releasing no small amount of trepidation within him, "Too early? Thorin, the coronation is tomorrow. _Nadad_ has been complaining about the work involved for nigh on a moon now. For my part I cannae wait for it to be over.."

"Coronation?" Thorin muttered, taking a moment to truly retrace his mental steps this time so it finally dawned on him that his friend had not been referring to his intentions regarding Edúr at all.

"Aye." Dwalin confirmed, drawing out the word and frowning, "You have noticed that the whole Mountain's in an uproar because of it? Has been for the past weeks ever since the invitations got sent round."

Embarrassed for his misunderstanding the Dwarf's earlier words, Thorin quickly nodded, "Yes. Of course. How could I not."

"You'd think none of them has been to a feast before they way they behave." Dwalin scoffed with heartfelt disgust, "If I have to suffer that smirking git Bofur asking me to dance with him one more time you might have to get yourself a new Head of the Miner's Guild."

"I can only refer you to both of our beloved siblings, they are in charge of the whole affair. I am sure they can arrange you won't sit anywhere near him. Though I doubt you will be excused from dancing, especially if it is on the insistence of Bofur, she'll sooner wrestle a troll than crush his hopes.." He told him as neutrally as he could, but his heart betrayed him in skipping a beat as he imagined he might have an opportunity to dance with her again so soon, though hardly soon enough. _It might even be the start of their formal courtship_..

More to hide how heat had risen to his face, prickling the sides of his neck, Thorin patted the broad-shouldered Warrior on the back, making to continue the last leg of his way to the Rookery on his own as they came to a crossroads.

"How about yerself?" Dwalin countered, not ready to let him escape just yet now he had suddenly surmised something was occupying his King's mind and finally connected it to his incoherence from before.

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked guardedly, inadvertently balling a fist and not looking directly into the other's gauging eyes.

"Will you be dancing yourself, sire?" Dwalin purposefully added his title, knowing that that alone obliged him to do so, "Perhaps you should ask Dori for advice, knowledgeable as he is in all matters to do with refined society and culture. He might be able to teach you a thing or two on dancing rituals of Clans in the North. After all, you never know who might have the honor of being your first partner of the night."

Thorin spun around, half opening his mouth but for some reason his voice had gotten stuck in his throat and no sound came out, instead he simply stared at him with what he realized must look suspiciously close to panic in his eyes. The subtle twitch of his bushy moustache was more than enough indication that Dwalin had indeed figured out the reason for his absentmindedness, "Judging by that maidenly blush I'd say the Lady might well be destined to be your partner for every dance after. I'll tell Dori he might need to pay you a visit later -"

"That won't be necessary." Thorin bluntly overrode him, taken aback more than angry yet unable to keep the annoyed fervor he did feel from his voice now his secret could hardly be called that anymore.

"Alright." Dwalin conceded while tilting his head, eyes glinting with amusement as he bowed and made to take the other path leading to the Training Grounds, "On your own head be it then."

* * *

She had driven herself close to madness with her restless twisting and turning in a bed that was suddenly too warm and big to be comfortable in. Eventually Edúr had propped herself up against the headboard, pillow strangled in her clutching embrace while she stared into the fire hoping it would somehow make her drowsy. But it had been to no avail. Sleep had not come. What seemed like the next moment the wreathing flames had been reduced to blackened logs and glowing embers although her thoughts had been so far away she had hardly noticed it. She shivered slightly now her room had gotten colder and she lied down again, crawling under the thick blankets. Soon she felt too hot again, cursing her own inability to rest tonight.

Getting out of bed with a frustrated sigh, Edúr made her way to the Main Chamber and sank down on the sofa. She pulled up her knees and laced her arms over them, filled with that strangely empty and forlorn feeling that would normally take a hold of her when she could not dismiss her whirling thoughts in favor of sleep. A sudden, soft and rustling sound disturbed her inward remonstrance and she slid noiselessly to her feet. She rushed to the door, drawn to it even though she could not tell herself with certainty why. Standing still in front of it her heartrate increased in anticipation and spiked when she thought she could hear the shuffle of feet on the other side. She raised her arm and let her trembling hand reach out until it rested on the cold stone. It seemed that she stood there for hours, holding in her breath and trying with all her might not to think of the one Dwarf she could simply not ban from her head. _It could not be Thorin_.. _It was impossible for him to be here at this time of night_..

Finally, after a long internal debate, she exhaled slowly, closed her fingers around the handle and pulled. The gloomy and deserted hallway beyond made her feel as if she had swallowed a stone. She pivoted around and stalked to the kitchen, biting her lower lip as she went, not knowing whether she was angrier at herself for being this disappointed or for experiencing that surge of irrational hope in the first place and all because she wanted to see his face again. Hear his voice. Feel his arms around her. After thinking of nothing else but that moment in the Gallery of Kings for hours already she felt stupid for having left his side once they had heard the sounds of others approaching. She had wanted him to look for her even as she had fled away from him. She wanted to be found. And yet.. She did _not_ want to be found. _What could she say to him_? _What would he say to her_? _That it had been a mistake_? _That it had not meant he harbored the same feelings as she did_..? Her heart clenched painfully and tears pricked in the corner of her eyes. The complete and blatant contradictions of her inner most feelings were driving her insane. Perhaps she should dismiss her nerves as the right councilor in this matter. After all, she _did_ want to talk to him. Just as she wanted him to hold her again like he had. It would be foolish to deny it.

As the first light filtered in slender beams through the high row of windows Edúr made up her mind. Whatever happened, or would not happen, she needed to bolster the courage needed to deal with both possible outcomes although she was too scared to admit to herself what those were exactly. She could make it more concrete once she had calmed down and could think about this more clearly. It did not take her long to change out of her nightgown and pull on a warm, high-collared dress. She slung on her mantle, determined to first seek out Morkai and simply lose herself for a bit in raking through his feathers, something she had done since she was but a young Dwarrowling. After that she would not allow herself to run away anymore of what had to be done. She would go to the King's Study. She needed to talk to Thorin. Or rather to see him and hope he would know the words she was not certain she could say herself.

Not much later she nearly failed to go through with her resolution to seek out her Raven when she stepped out onto the Rookery and her eyes locked onto the solitary figure standing at the edge of the balcony that jutted out from the Mountain. She recognized him instantly and froze in her movement. Unaware of her presence Thorin stared down from the dazzling height, a pensive look furrowing his brow as a huge, old Raven with gray patches on his black feathers and white specks in his dark eyes perched on the back of his raised hand. There was a ruffle of wings flapping and Edúr just managed to stifle a yelp of fright when it was only Morkai who had swooped down from one of alcoves carved out into the wall to her right. He landed on her shoulder with a soft caw and nibbled her ear in greeting before lowering his head in reverence. She glanced back at the balcony, Thorin had turned towards her and the Raven resting on his hand had directed his piercing gaze to her and Morkai too. The mighty looking Bird must be none other than Roäc. It instantly explained why Morkai was shifting on his claws, wings neatly and respectfully folded on his back.

"Edúr.." Thorin took a step towards her, a careful smile breaking through the obvious worry that had hardened the lines around his eyes, "I am glad to see you."

Before she could answer him, though she was not sure how on earth she could express the soaring sensation which made her almost lightheaded and if she even should now there was evidently something heavy on his mind, there were footsteps behind her. The Raven Master, an old Dwarf with a scroungy beard, large round nose and shriveled moustache appeared from his walled and roofed post near the entrance. So used to his own routine he started on his round, checking all of the recesses for any messages or Ravens that needed his care.

When she turned back to face Thorin, he too had flicked a quick look at the Raven Master, stirring slightly as the Dwarf got ever nearer the two of them, his proximity visibly making him uneasy.

"What is wrong? Thorin?" She felt a powerful tingling surge through her body when he directed his eyes to her again, the gray in them had darkened which was contradicting the wavering look in them.

"I wish we could talk. Now.. But I am afraid that is impossible at the moment.. Could we meet later today?" He asked her sincerely, tone riddled with a regret she could not place and he added a little falteringly, "That is.. Would you permit me to call on you this afternoon? In the hope of.. Of being able to talk to you alone. I.. There is something-"

He broke off when the old Dwarf shuffled passed, casting an inquisitive glance over his shoulder at them which prompted Thorin to take another step closer, Roäc snapping his beak once as he balanced himself on his hand.

"I fear there is something I need to attend to which cannot be delayed." He admitted in a low voice, the expression on his face growing earnest and pained at the same time, "You are free later?" He then repeated his earlier question with a desperate urgency to have her confirmation on that score.

"Yes. I will be there." Edúr hastily promised him, feeling her knees weaken at the intense gaze he steadily held fixed on her eyes, his own slightly narrowing now he seemed torn between going and staying. She could not look away, wanting to say a thousand things to him and yet knowing it would have to wait. _Was the sudden gleam in his eyes caused by the same longing_? _Or was he trying to spare her feelings but not sure how to go about rejecting what he must suspect she felt for him after their dance in the Gallery of Kings_? _Had he simply delayed that inevitable moment in which he would tell her she could never hope to gain the affection of a King she_.. _A King for whom_.. Edúr blinked, lowering her gaze to fall on the ground and praying to Mahal that the tears gathering in her eyes would not fall. Not when she was still in his presence. Not when she was confused to such a degree that her thoughts did not make sense and her heart refused to finish them for her.

There was the sound of moving fabric when Thorin bowed rather hurriedly and walked passed her, disappearing into the Mountain the very next moment. It took all her willpower not to give in to crying now too many conflicting emotions battled for dominance of her heart. She lifted her head, taking a few tentative steps closer to the edge and sucking in a short, shallow breath in a miserable attempt to regain control over herself. Not really seeing the spectacular view rolling out far below her, she first felt a powerful shiver go through her before she truly registered what her eyes had been instinctively drawn to.

Ravenhill rose from the vast, snow covered valley like a lonely and crumbling pinnacle seemingly devoid of life. Only it was not. There was a small flock of Ravens, no more than black specks on the horizon, but that had not caught her attention. Edúr took another step forward, blinking to clear her vision for she could not be seeing this right. There, on one of the middle levels of the tower-like structure was light. No more than a sullen flickering of red that grew and shrank presumably with the wind. She squeezed her eyes and held her breath as she stared at the unmistakable proof of a fire having been lit in the ruins of Ravenhill even though it should have been impossible. Balin had told her that safe for the Birds the old Watchtower was abandoned.. There were no Men of the City of New Dale stationed there. Nor were there any Dwarves, be they from Erebor or the Iron Hills, that had sent scouts there. To think Elves were there was negligible too, they had absolutely no business to be. Then who- Edúr almost sank to her knees when the realization hit her. _Orcs_..

Next instant Morkai's claws dug into her shoulder and he croaked his agreement. If she doubted her own perception, her Raven's far keener eyesight could not be mistaken. It seemed their enemies had finally come. They had crept out of their hiding places which the aftermath of the Battle had forced them into. Had made the first move in their schemes to wipe out the Line of Durin for she did not doubt that Gundabad had come to make good on its threat.. Edúr took a few faltering steps back, away form the edge now she felt as if something heavy had slammed against her chest, forcing out all the air. She only just maintained a precarious balance to keep standing. They had come to kill the last descendant of Durin.. _Thorin_...

In a split second she knew what to do. She also knew it was the last thing she should do for it was highly unwise, foolhardy even, and above all a dangerous plan, but the powerful stab of pain piercing her chest had made the decision for her. There was no choice. Not anymore. This was her chance to finally honor her father's faith in her. She would complete the task he had assigned her. She would protect the King. _Her_ King.

She could not tell him. Or even warn others. If she did then he would go himself rather than risk the lives of others, he had said so himself when they had traveled to New Dale and she now knew him to be exactly that type of honorable leader. She could not run the risk of that happening. No. She had to do this on her own.

Edúr sent off Morkai with the instruction to await her near the gate and ran back into the interior of the Mountain. She hardly knew how she found her way at such a moment as this but soon she had changed into her tunic and breeches, retrieved her axes and attached them to her belt before draping her travel cloak over her shoulders, covering the weapons as well. Hiding her face behind a scarf she set out for the Gate Room, trying desperately to recall the password she had heard Ori use those weeks ago before joining the caravan to New Dale. Her memory came back to her just in time as she kept to the shadows and neared the Guards. She pulled her hood down even more so they would not see her amber hair or enough of her face to be recognized.

" _Amnâs_." Heart throbbing in the region of her throat at what she was about to do she feared the armored Dwarves would stop her, question her, but the fact that she had not slowed down and instead quickened her purposeful pace made them waver and she was passed them before they had truly processed what was going on. Edúr could hear their loud and curt voices calling out to her but she ignored them as well as the adrenaline rushing through her blood which urged her to go even faster.

Her Goat was waiting for her in the stables and luck was with her it seemed for the Keepers were all too occupied with their own work to notice her until it was too late and she already galloped up the ramp. She crossed the bridge, the thundering of hooves rattling her bones as an icy blast hit her full on. But she could not turn back. She would not. Her mind was set on the task she had to complete. Her heart finally resolved to no longer deny what it held for a King she had blamed for her Clan's fate, had cursed for his blindness and cruelty until she had finally opened her own eyes to see him for who he was.

Morkai was circling high up in the sky, keeping an eye on the fire on Ravenhill which she could not see from down below and spotting her the moment she had burst outside. He let out a single, far carrying caw and took off. She followed him instinctively, they had often joined forces on hunts and missions, and she knew how to read every minute change of movements above her, from the beat of his wings to the turning of his beak from left to right as he scanned the area. He would guide her to their enemies and she would do what she had to do once they found them.

Edúr bit her lip to the point where she drew blood and increased the tight hold on the reins in her hands. Even though she was alone and about to face an unknown number of Orcs that would put up a nasty fight she had never before felt so sure of what to do. She prayed to _Mahal_ he would forgive her for her rashness, for her decision based on passion rather than reason. But there really was no choice. Those vile creatures wanted to end the life of the Dwarf she had come to love with all of her being. It was in a way a relief to know she would do anything to save him. _How could she be scared_? _She was doing this for him_.

 _For Thorin_.

 _For her One_..

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~Thank you for reading & I'd love to know your thoughts on this chapter! (^-^b)~

 **A/N: Finally they understand what they mean to each other! Geez, took them long enough, right? Haha ;) And, um, yeah, so they haven't quite arrived at the 'happy ever after ending' yet, there's still some things that need and in fact are about to happen..but, never fear, they** ** _are_** **getting closer and closer to that ending! Bear with me folks! :)**

 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _nadad = brother_

 _nana'-ê_ _= my sister_

 _Aznâg_ , _nadad_. _Kurdu-zu aktub ith-thurku_. _Akrud hû._ _= Courage, brother. Your heart knows the way. Follow it._

 _Amnâs = loyalty_

 _As always, all the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the super handy website/dictionary of the amazing Dwarrow Scholar!_


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Pfiieww, okay, not gonna lie, this chapter was a little tricky to write, the main reason for that being that I'm not good a writing 'action' scenes.. hope I managed to pull it off! Also, it was hard to have Thorin go back to that place where he lost his nephews, it's going to put him in a strange mood which in turn will affect both him and Edúr in the chapter following this one.. But I don't want to jump the gun here, hehe ;) Anyways, just to let you guys know this week is my last week of classes before Christmas break/exam period so even though I should really be studying my you-know-what off I'm planning to get a lot of writing done too so hopefully I'll be able to update again next week instead of two weeks later! A heartfelt thank you to the new followers/favoriters(I know this is not a word but just go with it), seriously it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside when I realize people are actually reading this story..magic! Thanks &hope you'll enjoy this chapter! :D p.s. Oh! right, almost forgot to mention this but I totally changed the title of the story, had done so in my original document a while ago now and kinda felt like it was about time I changed it on the site too, sorry for any possible confusion (it'll still have the 'old' title behind it in brackets btw)!  
**

 **Sophia Kaiba:** _Oh yeah, fighting in the name of love, wohoo! And that would've been so comical if turned out to be dwarves on patrol just wanting to warm up next to a fire, lol ;p And it probably won't come as much of a surprise but I love writing that 'softer' and more insecure side of Thorin, makes me melt every time hihi Thanks for reviewing!_

 **Robinbird79:** _nope, definitely not filler, hihi, you're always so clever in picking up on that! ;) And yep, you're bang on when it comes to Thorin's reaction, why oh why didn't I make Edúr a coward and just wait in her room for Thorin to declare his love for her, could've wrapped everything up in this chapter with a neat little ribbon on top.. nah, that wouldn't be fun at all! haha Thanks for your review! :)_

 **coldie voldie:** _Haha, loved your reaction there, I could just imagine the tone of that 'whyyyyyy!', seriously I use it all the time when I'm reading fanfics which for some reason are filled with mean cliffies ;) And please don't cry, everything will be all right in the end, I promise! Thanks for your review!_

 **Angie:** _I know right, I figured it was about time that other Fundin brother made Thorin blush by guessing at what's in his heart hihi And I just wanted to make sure that Dís would be the first to know that Thorin has finally seen the light and realizes what he feels for Edúr, and as for Bofur.. Well he's just as cheeky as ever, incorrigible little dwarf! ;p Anyways, thanks for your review, I love how detailed they always are, and hopefully you'll like this chapter!_

 **Jayne DLM:** _I sent you a PM seeing you reviewed for an earlier chapter..just so you know if you happened to have caught up to this latest chapter! ;)_

 **Lunar678:** _I hope this is soon enough ;) Thanks for leaving me a review!_

 **killthepain62:** _Hi! Thanks for your review, reading when someone says they love this story makes me grin like an idiot haha ;) Hope you'll continue to enjoy it!_

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 **Disclaimer:** All rights go to that British dude with the wacky pipe (you know the one) and Mr. I'm-addicted-to-carrot-cameo's Jackson (and consequently don't belong to poor old me) ;P

 **Chapter XXVII**

 **STRIDING** out of the crowded Council Chamber filled with purpose of a very different nature than the one he had entered it with, Thorin needed a moment to quench the flurry of nerves suddenly going through him. He reached out a hand and leant against the wall for support, slowly letting out his breath. He had dealt with the situation at hand as quickly as he could. His visit to the Rookery had been well-timed though not with regards of what he really had been meaning to say, what he almost _had_ said, when Edúr had been there too. Just moments before her coming Roäc had informed him that Orcs had been seen near Ravenhill. They had to be stopped, at all costs. If that secret passageway existed. _If they found it_..

He had immediately called all council members to meet with him and already ordered Dwalin to select his stealthiest and sturdiest warriors that would be dispatched to the old watch tower the moment that storm had passed. Thorin gnashed his teeth at the delay but he was not willing to risk their lives needlessly. After he had talked to Edúr he would go down to the armory and get ready for battle himself. The thought of it did not scare him. Not anymore. Had he fought with all of his soul and every strength that he possessed for his ancestor's keep and his kin before, now the will to defend it had only grown for it meant he would also be defending _her_. He would do anything to keep her safe.

Thorin briefly closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool stone that soon had him feel in control enough to continue on his way. Nevertheless, his mind was still besieged by the many questions and anticipations that inevitably arose as he pondered on what he was about to do. Even if she would reciprocate his feelings, or at least accept them as well as his request to court her, he would still not be able to love her so openly yet. Of course, as King, he could speed up the process, shorten the moons required before he could ask her to- To sit next to him on the throne. _To become Erebor's Queen_.. _His wife_.. For he hoped, prayed even, that she would understand his intentions to be sincere. That he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his days with her..

The images of a future he had never dared hope could be his and that were now conjured up by his fervent desire almost made him halt but he would not be stopped. Not even by himself. _The only one who could do this_.. _Who held his fate in her hands_.. Unable to finish those thoughts Thorin stood still in front of the familiar tall door, not having realized his feet had already carried him all the way to the South Wing. He raised a fist and forced himself to knock before any doubt slipped in. The hollow, thumping sound seemingly echoed by the loud beatings in his chest. _Why did their race hold the strong belief there was only One other they could love, and yet did those traditions not also state whether or not that love was destined to be returned.._? _Would she truly want him as much as he wanted her_?

His heart knew the answer he thought but despite the strong resolution in it he was still wary to trust it blindly for his head provided a myriad of convincing reasons why she would not. He was King, he felt privileged but also burdened by that fact, it could well stop her from developing any feelings on her part. And then he did not belong to her Clan, something that was not required but rarely boded well for a courtship. What was more, banishment evoked or not she did not owe him her allegiance. She was free to go but by _Mahal_ he did not want her too..! The silence following his knocks dragged on, doing nothing to improve his nerves. He debated with himself whether or not to knock again but the decision was made for him when the door carefully creaked open to reveal a servant clearly distraught.

"Your Highness! S-She.. She has gone!"

"Gone..?" He repeated in disbelief, heart clenching at the sense of foreboding creeping up on him, "Where to?" He demanded in a low growl.

At first the Dwarrowdam whimpered in distress before she recalled what she had seen in a feeble voice, "Lady Edúr didn't think I saw her, but I did. I had just come back from doing the laundry. She was dressed for the cold outside, wearing a cloak and scarf."

Her words made him feel like someone had hung a rope with stones across his shoulders, weighing him down, and he shook his head in denial. _This could not be true_.. It took him a moment to regain his composure but when he did he realized that the Dwarrowdam pointed a trembling finger in the direction he had come from, "That way."

Thorin grumbled a barely audible thank you and turned on his heels, not seeing or hearing any of the Dwarves he met on his way down to the Gate Room. It was too painful to think. To feel. He checked in with the two Guards flanking the great, looming entrance, hoping against hope this was all a misunderstanding, that they would tell him no one had passed. _She_ had not passed. _She_ had not left them.. Had left _him_.. He clenched his jaw, pressing a balled fist to his mouth and only just repressing a gagging sensation when the armored Dwarves confirmed it was true. Someone did slip through before they could stop her. He did not really need the description he demanded of them to know it had been Edúr. And as far as they could tell she had headed in the direction of Ravenhill..

Threatening to be overcome by a sickening worry that made his breathing shallow and stomach turn, Thorin barked order after order at them, starting with getting Dwalin and his warriors here instantly as well as his weapons and shield, there was no time to change into his hauberk. Edúr in all likelihood did not know of the snow storm approaching. He interrupted his restless pacing as he realized that was not the only threat. _Why_.. _Why had she gone_?! _Had she overheard Roäc's report to him_? _Had her Raven told her_? _Had she gone to protect him_? His heart swelled painfully but then stung at the thought following the last one. _Had she left in order to flee from him_..?

The duality and uncertainty made his whole body ache and it was torture not to give in to the urge to set out after her. He could not wait much longer. He had already lost too much time and he could not afford to waste more if he was to retrieve her alive.. He had nearly given in to his impatience to do _something_ instead of just stand here when he finally heard the heavy footfall of his Commander and the Warriors he had chosen. Without the need to explain the situation Thorin simply took the axe Dwalin threw him, allowing the Guard he had sent down to the armory to sling a shield onto his back as he exited the gate, his Goat already saddled and waiting. He had never begged for anything in his life before, but he pleaded with everything he had for _Mahal_ to keep her safe until he had found her.. And he had to find her.. He _had_ to..

* * *

The ancient and broken-down structure of Ravenhill loomed over her as Edúr guided her Goat over the broad river frozen solid. Finding her way through the maze of ruins she kept an eye on Morkai who was circling above her target. Used to scaling icy, snow covered mountainsides her Goat easily picked its way between crumbling stairways and courtyards, ascending level after level without tiring. Once they had neared the top Edúr hesitated to get off her mount and continue on foot, but it would be an impairment to enter the watch tower, or what remained of it, any other way, for she was sure that the dark, gaping entrances to its interior would grow even narrower the further she followed it. Making up her mind she halted with a brief but powerful pull on the reins in her hands then slid off as soundlessly as she could. Edúr patted the Goat against his neck then hunched a little in ready wariness, taking the axes of her belt as she moved forward.

The reassuring weight of her weapons in her hands did little to quench the uneasiness and state of alertness that had increasingly taken her over. A sensation that only heightened when she passed under the small arch and felt herself swallowed by the gloom of the long deserted structure. She made her way carefully through the many winding passageways, ears strained for any scuffling sound and eyes narrowed to spy out any movement. Turning corner after corner made her heart race faster each time she neared one, slowed down, then peered cautiously around it to find nothing. With every fiber of her being tense and her mind focused on the one task ahead of her it was hard to also keep track of the way she had come. Not knowing exactly where she was as well as where she was going was disorientating to say the least. And then it was quiet. Too quiet.

There was a flicker of orange at the end of the passage she had entered, making her initially stop in her tracks. Edúr clenched her jaw, grip on her axes tightening as she moved forward. Judging by how the warm glow bathed the curve of the wall on the left, she assumed there must be a path branching off to wherever the orcs were hiding. And that place had to be outside in all likelihood too for how else would she have spotted it from Erebor. Orcs were stupid, but she doubted they would be stupid enough to risk more than one fire, no matter how much of a mistake that one would prove to be.

Wishing there had been another way for her to approach unseen she feared she did not have the time to scout the rest of the tower. Delaying her inevitable attack would only increase the chances of being detected, losing what little advantage she hoped to derive from the fact that her presence was as of yet unknown to her enemy. Edúr slowed down her breathing while she sped up her pace, muscles taut and blood pumping through her veins. She had neared the reflection of the fire casting a playful light on the rough stone to within a handful of steps when there was movement to her left. She had only half turned towards the dark alcove she had passed without noticing it when something rammed into her side. Edúr slammed against the wall, the axe she held in the arm raised to lessen the impact so it scraping with an eerie scratching sound of metal on rock as she instinctively swiped it at her attacker.

She could hardly see the orc but all the more did she hear his loud squeal and then his rasping breath and the snapping of his crooked teeth when she had sliced right through half of its neck. Knowing she had given away her position by her own stupid carelessness she swiveled around and sprinted further down the path, not even waiting for the orc to hit the ground and the dull _thud_ when it did come mere seconds later did nothing to ease her mind. It was only one dead orc less to worry about, there would be plenty left to provide her with a challenge she was not sure she could meet. But that did not mean she would not try. It was why she had come. And if with her blood she could save the last direct descendant of Durin, she would gladly give it..

Edúr turned the corner, rushing out onto a courtyard then halting just in front of the narrow opening leading back to the dimness of the tower. There were shrieks and grunts as a dozen or more orcs came upon her. She wielded her axes deftly to parry the first blows then took each opportunity she was given by the filthy monstrosities to hack away at the parts of their deformed bodies that they left open. Soon the smell of blood and the stench of her enemies filled her nostrils and sweat from exertion trickled down her temples. But she would not stop, knowing full well that the only reason she was still alive was not necessarily her skill but the fact that the tunnel behind her back served as a bottleneck of sorts, preventing them from closing her in on all sides. Still. She would not last long. There were over ten of them remaining. And only one of her..

She had just pushed back a tall, growling orc that had thrust forward a jagged scimitar when there were the unmistakable sounds of heavy feet behind her, the swelling echoes of it only making the approach of additional orcs even more ominous. Edúr let out a frustrated cry and charged forward in desperation now her chance of surviving this was growing slimmer by the second. She barely managed to sidestep the orc she had shoved in the direction of the others when he came at her again, dodging another's dagger by inches as she hurled herself behind one of the half crumbled pillars that ran around the tower's top level resembling the ridges of a broken crown.

The stone behind her shook with the impact as a massive orc swung at it with his lance, the rusty but sharp tip of it coming uncomfortably close to tearing her open. Without the time to recover her stance the orc tried again and Edúr was forced to cross the heads of her axes to trap the lance in it, stopping it from skewering her on it. As the orc yanked his weapon free from hers she let go of one handle then swung the still interlocked axes over her head. It was a risky move, one she had rarely used. And for good reason. There was a good chance she would lose a weapon if she could not keep up the momentum, something that would only take a slight wavering for the duration of a heartbeat to happen.

Edúr moved away from the pillar, nothing but the edge and gaping depth behind her. Arms heavy and trembling she quickly grabbed the handle of her axe out of the air, separating the two and raising them at eye level, one in front, one to the side. Even though she might have bought herself a temporary respite from her inevitable defeat her enemies' reinforcements choose that moment to burst out of the passageway, joining the orcs closing in on her, sneering and letting out predatory yelps in anticipation of tasting her flesh. She held her breath, the sounds around stilling as they always did at the approach of the decisive moment in a battle. She only had one chance to escape. To turn around her certain death and retreat inside the ruins, stalk her prey and take them out one by one, making sure she would not miss a single one..

She pursed her lips, pressing air passed it so a shrill whistle rented the air. Undaunted and above all unaware of what she had just done the orcs advanced, menacing, flashing short swords and teeth. The moment the first one struck down hard with his broken blade and another flung a clenched fist at her there was the sound of galloping hooves that had never been more welcome to her ears. Next instant her goat nimbly jumped from one rock to the other and eventually from a ledge jutting out from the steep cliff, no more than a few yards below, to land beside her.

It was tempting to get on her mount but Edúr knew that now she was here she would need to complete her task before she could even think of returning. That had always been the last consideration in her plan in any case. And together they stood more of a chance. A part of her regretted having called her loyal goat to her in this dire situation but the moment it charged forward, horns lowered and bowling over the foremost of their enemies she knew she would have to fear more for her own life than the animal's. Edúr lifted her axes with a renewed zeal, twisting and turning around her axis to ward off all the attacks aimed at her, striking back whenever she could.

And then the Ravens came. At first she had simply stiffened upon perceiving what looked like a black cloud growing bigger and bigger. Then the orcs stared distractedly at it too right before it dispersed and the flock of black birds dived down. Edúr could hardly believe what her eyes were witnessing as her feathered allies bore down on the orcs, screeching, cawing, wings flapping and beaks snapping. The birds might be smaller and armed with only their claws and beaks, they were more in number and overwhelmed the orcs with their fierce attack.

Edúr felt a grin tug at the corner of her mouth before she felt his claws dig into her shoulder, "Morkai.." She whispered gratefully and he responded by rubbing the side of his beak briefly against her cheek. Her Raven might have broken his promise not to join the fight but she was all the more relieved he had brought his kin with him now.

There was a ruffle of feathers and the old, graying Raven she had seen not many hours past in the Rookery swooped down at her feet. It instantly brought back the powerful memory of how the Leader of the Birds had perched on a certain Dwarf's hand. _Thorin_.. If they were victorious here.. If she lived.. Then she would see him again..!

Mimicking her own Raven, Edúr inclined her head to Roäc out of respect. When she looked up she could not help for an eager grin to split her face as she readied herself to fight alongside the mighty birds but their leader stopped her. Roäc spread his wings wide, saying in a croaking voice, "Go, Child of Stone..!" There was something in his tone that made her instantly obey him, regardless of the adrenaline pumping through her body or the itch in her hands to wield her weapons with deadly precision. Instead she clenched her fists, unable to wholly repress the desire to fight with it but nodding tersely nonetheless. Morkai took off and followed suit as she sprinted towards her Goat that had cleared a way back to her and swung herself in the saddle.

Before she could spur it on a large orc separated from the others and lurched forward, spear in hand. Edúr had only a split to decide. She raised one of her axes, throwing it towards the orc. With a ringing _clang_ her weapon collided with the spear, deflecting its course sufficiently so it would not pierce through her Goat's flank. Even bereft of his weapon, however, the orc did not deviate from its course. It took her too long to switch the remaining axe in her other hand and with a grunt from her mount and a snarl from the orc they crashed into each other. Her world turned around her and before she knew it she was thrown off her Goat and rolled over and over until she felt no ground beneath her.

At a dizzying speed Edúr plummeted down, landing hard on the ledge she had stood looking down at earlier when her Goat had answered her summoning. The only reason she could still hold on to her wavering consciousness was the fact that her enemy had broken most of her fall, his weight or position having caused him to arrive first after their mutual fall. Edúr rolled off him and pushed herself up from her belly, breathing labored and the muscles in her arms -in her entire body- shaking in protest. The stirred orc, fumbling to get to a curved blade hanging from his belt.

Edúr ended his attempt to silence her swiftly by burying the axe she still clutched in her hand deep into his gut, assisted by Morkai who had swooped down and clawed at his face and stabbed at his eyes. The creature wreathed in convulsion, letting out a sharp hiss that was then reduced to a spluttering gurgle as she pushed the axe even further until she could feel she had hit bone. The orc emitted one final wail then grew completely silent and moved no more. With what felt like the last of her strength she enveloped the handle with both of her hands, placing her back against the rock of the steep cliff and her boots against the side of the orc. With a groan she stretched her knees until the axe was released with a disgusting sucking sound that made her gag even as the orc toppled over the edge and was gone.

Edúr sagged against the cold stone, only now realizing how strong the wind had become. It was swirling around her, chilling her to the bone. _And when had it begun snowing_? She almost startled at the freezing and strangely pricking sensation of thick snowflakes on her nose and forehead, the sky was filled with them..

"Morkai.." She mumbled weakly as her Raven hopped impatiently around her, it was good to see he had not sustained any injuries, though it made her wonder about whether the same could be said of herself. Edúr swallowed with difficulty, deciding it would be best not to move right now, she was not sure she even could. Morkai cawed, head tilting from side to side and his beady eyes gleaming. "Go.. Get help.. _Agnug_!"

It was hard not to feel hopeless as the Raven spread his wings and soon soared up high in the sky, easily carried away from her on the powerful currents.

* * *

They arrived in the half light of a dying day. A day that was not far away from being torn apart by a vicious snowstorm that would have no mercy on any soul unfortunate -or _foolish_ \- enough to be caught in it. Thorin warily eyed the sky. They would have one, two hours before the raging weather would reach its zenith. At the most. _They would never make it back to the Mountain on time.._

He lowered his gaze, heart instantly hammering against his ribs as he took in Ravenhill. Its ominous presence seemed to simultaneously stab right through him and rake painful memories that threatened to drag him back to that faithful day. He was thankful for Dwalin urging on the warriors following in their wake, he himself could not find his voice to come out at the moment. He simply clutched the reins, leaned forward and willed the Goat to go faster.

After the hours long trek wading through the snow at as great a speed as they could muster under the harsh conditions, he should feel drained somewhat, experience the hint of weariness even, but he did not. _How could he feel exhausted when the need for haste overwhelmed all of his senses_? He felt fixed in his determination and wavering in his fear all at once. Not too long ago they had spotted the cloud of Ravens and how one had made for their group. The messenger sent by Roäc had informed them that his kin had engaged with the intruders and that there had already been a Dwarrowmaiden battling them on her own.

It had filled him with both hope and dread, the first upon hearing she was still alive and the second as he did not know whether she would remain so, even with the help of the birds. Still, he took the knowledge provided to bolster his strength, realizing he would need it every ounce of it. And for more reason than one..

The thick ice underneath that flowed unmoving to the frozen waterfall arrested in its fall over the cliff on his left groaned a heavy, deep groan as they sped over it, hooves thundering over it then clattering on rock again the moment they reached the other side. It was then that a black speck dove towards them. Thorin pulled back on the reins, making his Goat raise itself on his hind legs before coming to an abrupt standstill. He grinded his teeth, half standing in the stirrups as the bird neared. It seemed to take an age and yet it bore down and landed on a crumbled stairway mere seconds later.

Thorin pierced it with a look, recognizing the Raven as Edúr's and his breath hitched as the bird dipped its beak meaningfully before turning his back on him and spreading his wings. Instinctively knowing he had to follow it, Thorin dug his heels in the flank of his steed, spurring it into motion again. Behind him he could hear the sound of the other riders scaling the ancient Watch-tower but he could not spare a backward glance, eyes fixed on the Raven flying just ahead of him.

At long last they reached the highest level of the treacherous structure and the sight before Thorin was one that gave him pause despite the desperate haste he was in. There were orcs scattered across the courtyard, their muddy blood sullying the pristine whiteness of the snow. There were a few tattered banners bearing the mark of Gundabad, the claw-like and strangely distorted bat shape freezing his blood. All around Ravens were hopping from carcass to carcass, not to eat but to ascertain their enemy had been defeated. His respect for the Wise Birds of Ravenhill swelled at what he witnessed. They had fought, not just in defense of their nesting grounds, but also for the Dwarves of Erebor. For him as their King and his kin that had returned in great numbers to the Mountain already. _As had she_.. _Where was Edúr_..?!

Thorin slid off his Goat, his boots hitting the ground hard but he did not care and rushed forward, eyes flitting left to right in a rising panic. The fact that he could not see her anywhere made him close to stopping and sinking to his knees but before he could give in to that weak inclination he jarred into motion again, determinedly stepping around the dead orcs. _Where was she_?! Next instant he felt a gust of air brush his ear and the Raven he had followed up here flitted passed him. The bird let out an impatient caw and he joined it, heart skipping a beat, as it led him to the edge. He barely registered her axe on the ground, entangled with what looked like a rusty spear, and crouched down, peering into the depth below with a paralyzing fear clenching his chest.

 _There_! On the ledge. Her slumped form effectively stole his breath from him and had he not been bent forward already he was sure he would have doubled over as he stared down. He had been on the verge of calling out, shouting her name at the top of his lungs when Dwalin and his warriors appeared, Ravens circling overhead, looking out with their keen vision. Roäc was there too, perching on the stump of a pillar seemingly cut in half. The Leader of the Birds snapped its beak and tilted it to the side, a gesture to mean he would offer any assistance he could but both he and Thorin knew that it was up to him and the other Dwarves to save her.

Ready to throw himself over the edge and climb down himself, Thorin did not hold back on a heartfelt growl when Dwalin grabbed a hold of him. The bald warrior, although not wholly immune to the deathly glare he received, stood his ground, hand pressing against his chest and pushing him to lean back. Thorin wanted to protest, bellow even, that now was not the time to take his position as King into consideration. She was in danger, and they were wasting time. There really was no stronger incentive on this earth to make him want to propel himself forward and actively try all in his power to save her.

"Leave this to us, Thorin. It makes more sense to send the lightest and smallest down with the few ropes that we brought." Dwalin told him gruffly, the seemingly opposing sentiments of respect and defiance clear in his tone. Before he could answer the warrior nodded curtly at some of the armored dwarves trooped around them.

Hating everything about the situation with a vehemence that had blood throbbing in his very ears, that constricted his throat, Thorin got to his feet and dug his nails in his balled fists, drawing blood as he paced like a caged animal along the edge. His gaze did not leave her form lying there, unmoving and small. More than once he forgot he was holding his breath so it came out in gasps when he watched two warriors descend, ropes tied around their waists pulled taut by the strong hands of the others who had lined to anchor them in place. Waiting for them to reach her, attach the rope around her as well and then haul her up was torture. It physically _hurt_.

Finally she was close enough to the edge that he could reach out to her, pull her over it and to safety. Thorin send his thanks to the warriors that had gone down to get her with a terse dip of his chin then scoped Edúr up in his arms, not caring what anyone of the dwarves with him would think of it. She was looking dazed and numb from the cold and the fear that had been instilled in him since the moment he had found out she was gone to Ravenhill swelled painfully. He quickly sought the council of Roäc who advised him to take shelter within the ruins and sit out the storm. Morkai, or so he thought the bird was named, refused to follow his kin to their roosting place within niches carved into the cliff itself and instead landed on his shoulder, his claws gripping it tightly as if in warning or worry on behalf of his mistress.

The increasingly stronger blasts of wind whipped his hair in his face then tore at it, doing the same with Edúr's. As he carried her inside a damp and cave like room with cracked walls the wind whistled through and slits for windows that had snow drift inside, it took him a moment to unlock his intense gaze from her face resting against his shoulder, her amber hair tangled with his own black strands, and small, blue, unfocused orbs blinking back. Remonstrating himself sternly for slowing down he grinded his teeth and dropped to one knee, gently lowering her on the fur mantle that Dwalin had hastened to spread out.

Her eyes, having fluttered open occasionally on the way to the chamber were now closed and it did nothing to soothe his fears. Around him the others busied themselves with fortifying the crumbling walls against the storm raging outside then huddled together for warmth. There was no need to set a watch, no enemy could measure himself against the terrible power of the winter raging outside. Thorin simply let Dwalin take care of things, grateful that he himself could sink down next to Edúr. He draped his coat over both their shoulders, one arm slung across them and the other around her waist, holding on tight as if he truly feared she could fall away from him if he did not and too worried to allow himself to relish her weight pressed firmly against his chest.

* * *

~Thanks for reading & let me know what you thought of this chapter! (^-^b)~

 **A/N: Sooo.. told ya, not good at actions scenes, lol, good thing this story is more concerned with the romance side of things anyways ;p also, before I forget, I think throughout the story I've been referring to Niam as Edúr's nephew AND cousin... sigh, ok so that's me being a lazy idiot, he's her cousin, obviously, 'cause she doesn't have any siblings, not sure why I messed that up but I'll do my best to actually use my brain cells for that one from now on, sorry! Anyways, like I said at the beginning of the chapter, hope you enjoyed it and I'll try to update soon!  
**

 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _Agnug!_ _= Go!_

 _As always, all the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the wonderful website/dictionary of the awesome Dwarrow Scholar!_


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Yaaay, Christmas break! More time for** **studying-** **… _writing_! ;p Thanks to everyone who followed/faved/reviewed! **

**Robinbird79:** _As weird as it may sound but it's always comforting to hear I'm not the only one to struggle with battle scenes, not that I noticed that when I read your story btw, those always flowed perfectly ;) Yeah, I wanted Thorin to not be haunted too much by the idea that she might have fled away from him, he's already dealing with a lot and I just thought that'd be too cruel..(yes I know he's a fictional character but after while you really **do** start caring about all of them haha :D) Well, what can I say, you know what Thorin's like, especially after having been so worried.. And they haven't found the entrance to the tunnel yet btw, but it will be found soon, question is by who..(ehm, whom? never got that grammar rule haha) Thanks for reviewing!_

 **Sophia Kaiba:** _Thanks for the review! Yes, pretty jealous of Edúr there, all wrapped up in a certain dwarf King's tight embrace.. *sigh* ;p And as for Thorin reacting too harshly.. Well.. He was really worried for her safety.. But I guess there's only one way to find out: hope you'll enjoy this chapter! ;)_

 **killthepain62:** _Thanks for your review and for boosting my confidence in saying that the action scene wasn't too crappy, woohoo! ;) I'm glad you're excited, her dad will definitely have a role to play yet, you'll find out soon enough! First though, a certain dwarf (well two actually) needs to fess up and start making things less complicated haha! ;)_

 **Angie:** _Thanks! :D I'm relieved you could picture the fighting scene in Ravenhill, that was tricky to write! Yes, I feel sorry for Thorin too, sometimes I wish his life could be easier but he'll just have to be strong for a little while longer and then I'm sure he'll be all right ;)_

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 **Disclaimer:** So.. I lost the lawsuit and still don't own The Hobbit and all the characters that belong to it (I blame my sorry excuse of a lawyer), as a result all those rights still go to Tolkien/PJ!

* * *

 **Chapter XXVIII**

 **THE** first thing she became aware of was that the world around her had drastically changed. It was no longer blindingly white and cold. It was dark. And _warm_. Opening her eyes did not make much of a difference. Edúr could only just make out the shapes of dwarves grouped together all around her, lying down next to each other or huddling against the walls of a chamber almost entirely deprived of moonlight. Soft, familiar cawing told her that Morkai was close by too though she did not see him. Outside she could hear the lashing and howling sound of the wind and through some crevices snowflakes tumbled down at an erratic pace, creating a thin layer on the uneven ground of broken stones and dwarves.

It took her a moment to process what she was seeing and conclude that she must be inside the ruins of Ravenhill. The warriors must have been dispatched from Erebor to come to her rescue and forced to sit out the storm in this deteriorated chamber. It was the only explanation she could think of. _Then she was alive_.. _She had survived the ordeal she had brought upon herself hoping against hope no other dwarf would have had to risk their lives to save hers_..

She could feel her head rise and lower with every deep breath the Dwarf she clung to heaved, his chest going slightly up and then down again. Slowly she inhaled, her nose filling with a scent of leather, dry leaves as of those used as pipe-weed and something indistinct that made her heart race faster all of a sudden. She opened her eyes wider -not that it made her see more- and held her breath, fingers furrowing through fine fur until they stumbled upon strands of long hair that mingled with it. _Thorin_..

She could not believe he was here. He should not be! _What if there were still orcs hiding within the ruins, waiting for a chance to strike at him_?! A rising sense of panic made her stir only to find out that she could hardly move. And that had nothing to do with her aching muscles and sore back. One of his arms was wrapped snugly around her middle and the other cradled her shoulders, pressing them close to himself. Edúr instinctively crept a little nearer before she could repress the sudden impulse, feeling his chin rest on the crown of her head, his breath soft and tickling her scalp. _Mahal_ his body was _warm_..

Edúr swallowed down her uneasiness and leaned further into him, for a moment simply reveling in how he had molded himself around her, to envelop and harbor her. Without the power to stop it, the reassurance that he was here, alive and well, calmed her down some more. Soon, his tight embrace and the soothing rhythm of his chest rising and falling under her made her sleepy again. Edúr closed her eyes, determined to keep her ears strained for any hint of an enemy approaching.

She realized she had failed utterly in her resolution to remain watchful when the next time she opened her eyes the chamber was a lot lighter. Apparently the sun had reclaimed its position low in the sky and was crawling slowly higher, causing meager rays to filter in through the narrow slits cut in the stone. Edúr instantly missed the solid anchor she had hold on to in her sleep. Thorin no longer sat next to her. He had left his coat over her shoulders, having folded it around her like a cocoon so his warmth lingered around her.

Reluctant to give up the more than pleasant sensation, Edúr pushed herself off the ground making Morkai resting on her knee to flap his wings and take off. At first she leaned against the wall for support until a warrior who had noticed she was awake rushed over to help her up. She had barely mumbled her thanks to him now the others stopped milling about and handing out rations to each other when Thorin followed closely by Dwalin reentered. The former halted abruptly, abandoning whatever it was he had been discussing with his Commander as soon as his gray eyes locked onto hers. Edúr was glad for the support that the Warrior provided her with for she did not think it likely she could have remained standing without it. Thorin's piercing look was more than she could bear at the moment. There was simply too much she sought to find in it and the sheer amount of worry dominant in their glistening depths alone released a burning guilt within her.

Eyes glued to his face she simply stood there and waited as he instructed the others, most of whom filed out of the chamber or lingered to gather the last of their belongings, though there were a dozen or so that seemed to settle themselves in as if they had been ordered to remain behind. Eventually he hastened over to where she stood, still a little unsteady, and dismissed the warrior at her side as soon as he had placed his hand under her elbow, lending her his own strength instead. Thorin waited for the dwarf to join the others as if he wanted to make sure he was truly out of earshot before he spoke. "You are all right?"

The demanding edge to his tone made Edúr involuntarily hunch her shoulders and she avoided to look directly into his questioning gaze. She merely nodded in response, not that there was time to say anything for Dwalin appeared behind Thorin, letting him know with his usual serious scowl that they were ready to leave. Without pressing her further Edúr nevertheless felt strangely vulnerable at his pointed silence as he refrained from saying anything else and steered her with him towards a passageway leading back outside. In it Edúr surmised the Goats must have been stabled for shelter because their familiar hay-like scent remained a bit. Still silent, though she herself felt equally incapable to find the right words at the moment, Thorin practically dragged her to one of the Goats, only stopping when she dug her heels in the ground now his grip around her wrist had started to hurt.

"Your Goat has injured its leg, it cannot carry your weight. You will ride with me." He stated tensely as a way of explaining where they were going and there was something haunted in his eyes that had shivers run down her spine. Not given the chance to answer, to say something or do so much as blink at him, Thorin had already turned around and marched over to his Goat, pulling her along with him. The moment he finally faced her and placed his hand rather hesitantly around her waist the glare she shot him made him pause.

" _Thorin_ -"

"We need to go." He rather bluntly overrode her, pulling her caringly but not less determinedly toward him.

"But I.. I-I.." She sputtered, taken aback by his sudden gruffness.

"Are you too injured for the journey back?" He probed, concern etched onto his face where the lines had been taut and bordering on angry even but a split second before.

It was as if she was talking to two different Dwarves and Edúr was at a complete loss as to how to deal with it, "No.. No. I am fine."

" _Mahal_ be thanked for that.." Thorin sighed, his hand slipping from her wrist only to have his fingers tug on hers seemingly without him realizing that they did, " _Why_?" He narrowed his eyes and they flitted from left to right in utter confusion, "Why would you do this? Why _have_ you done this? I can protect you inside of Erebor. But _here_.. When I learned you had left the Mountain.. Had gone to _Ravenhill_.." He broke off, his voice unusually husky and she could feel him tremble with barely repressed emotion, "Edúr..?"

The way he had said her name had made it sound more like a plea and she felt a powerful jolt travel through her entire body. How could she tell him? _How_..?!

"When I saw the fire.. I just knew the time to fulfill the task my father had set me had come." She felt her stomach lurch at her own empty, and only half true words. Thorin furrowed his brows even more, an unmistakable sadness filling his gray eyes, "You should have come to me."

Edúr adamantly shook her head at the one thing she did not regret. "How would that have prevented those vile creatures from laying their hands on you?" She countered, voice growing increasingly more strained as she added, "I left to prevent you from doing exactly what you did. You should not have come after me.."

Thorin almost winced, looking both hurt and genuinely puzzled at the accusation, "But how could I not?"

There was an increase in noises around them now each warrior got on their Goats and the Ravens flocked overhead to see them off, Morkai already separating from them and flying ahead. Edúr hastily retreated her hand from Thorin's, turning away to place her foot in the stirrups, "We need to go."

Not waiting for him to push her up she relied on her own strength but only just managed to swing her leg over the broad-backed animal. She dared not look down at Thorin who remained where he was, apparently dazed and completely silent. Then she felt him take his place in the saddle just behind her and he reached around to grab the reins. Next he spurred the Goat into a brisk gait, saying in a low voice to her to hold on and hemming her cautiously in with his body. The almost defeated hesitation with which he had done so, with which he had embraced her with his arms and pressed his knees gently against her hips to help her remain balanced, made tears prick in her eyes. It was the day of the Coronation and she had possibly endangered the King's life more by acting on her own. _Why did it have to have been him to come after her_? The soaring sensation this thought caused was short-lived and got mercilessly swallowed up by shame and confusion. The first because she undoubtedly deserved it, the second because even if what she had done was foolish it seemed to her so obvious as to why she had gone to Ravenhill. _Did he truly not see she had done it for him_..?

* * *

The Gate shuddered as it fell back into place, blocking out the harshness of winter he and the others had just escaped the clutches of. Thorin forced himself to put one foot in front of the other without actually breaking into a run as he tried to catch up to her. It had pained him severely when she had not wanted his help to get out off the saddle as he had halted the Goat on the downward curve of the bridge. Instead she had ignored his hand hovering close and waited for her cousin to dash out of the Mountain a moment later. He had then been the one to assist her after he had no trouble picking up on the stern look in his own direction. Niam had guided her inside and the way she allowed his arm to wrap protectively around her, almost shielding her from him as well, made a knot tighten in his stomach.

"Go to the Healing Wing with Oín." He called after her in a raised voice, despising himself for the coldness of his order, even to his ears it had not sounded like the request he had intended it to be. She froze in her steps, forcing her cousin to do the same. Thorin knew the eyes of Dís and the Fundin brothers were resting upon him, he could almost feel them stabbing in his back as they stood gathered in the Gate Room, the warriors and guards mingling and only adding to the turmoil caused by their sudden return and the need for a patrol to be dispatched to Ravenhill instantly. They still had to find that tunnel and it had become even more pressing now.

At his approach he could see Edúr stir restlessly and she had taken half a step forward again when he appeared next to her, his fingers lightly tugging at the nook of her elbow in a desperate attempt to reach out to her, "That fall could have caused more injuries than you thought-"

"There is no need. I told you I am fine." She cut him short. She might not have physically pushed him away but it nevertheless felt like she had slammed the side of an axe against his chest.

"Do as I say, I cannot stop worrying if you do not go-" He tried one final time, letting slip a confession he had not planned on giving but she would not let him finish and stalked off without even having looked in his direction. Without answering the pleading gaze with which he watched her and Niam go and not even the trembling "Please!" that passed his lips stopped her.

Thorin turned on his heels and pushed his way through the helpers that scuttled after Oín now the healer had started on his pursuit of his unwilling patient. He needed to be away from the others. He needed to be on his own. With some effort he closed himself off from Dís and Balin calling after him, trying to talk to him but he could not now bear his Sister's deeply concerned eyes and his Councilor's sympathetic frown. If Ravenhill had not done so already then the expressions of both distress and undeserved understanding on their faces would have also reminded him of how he had failed to protect Fíli and Kíli all those Moons ago. How he had apparently very nearly failed to do so with Edúr now.

Having brought her back ironically felt like he was in danger of losing her. It was driving him insane. It was that damn ghost of the battle. His grief for his nephews who had died in that accursed place.. It had made him waver, made him helpless and blunt. Made him angry at himself for letting fear control his actions and words to her. For still not having told her when it could have already been too late..

The forges were all but abandoned now most had received time off to celebrate with their families and friends in preparation for the Coronation ceremony tonight. Thorin ducked out of sight of the few workers that were still there and soon slipped into a deserted workshop. He first crouched down and used the bellows to revive the fire that had almost died. Then he donned a blackened and dirty, smith's apron, rummaging around for the right tools. With a great sense of nostalgia he grabbed hold of a sturdy looking hammer, letting it fall once on the anvil just to hear to deep _clang_ of it reverberate through his entire body.

Those days now a lifetime ago when he had worked as a blacksmith in the villages of Men he had often poured his frustration into his work, having it fill his being and then beat it out with swift strokes of the hammer bending iron to his will. There had been a bitterness and a resentment in him then. In what he made with his hands. For the Dragon. For what it had done to Erebor and his people. Now very different emotions reigned his heart as he directed the heavy tool in his hand.

It was sadness at first as he revisited those haunting memories of Fíli and Kíli, how their lives had cruelly been ended that day. How their victory had been won by their costly sacrifice and that of all those dwarves, men and elves that had fought alongside them. Seeing their faces before him as he worked away at the anvil Thorin felt tears starting to flow freely over his face now he allowed himself to be overwhelmed by his grief. And then there was that other force in his heart. Raging through it like the fire he once again let grow higher with a puff of the bellows. There was that tremendous longing. A longing for _her_..

He froze, hammer raised above his head as he panted from exhaustion. He looked down on what he had been making, only now realizing what it was. Thorin slowly lowered his tool, stretching out his fingertips that feverishly brushed past the others until he had found the fine and narrow one he had been after. This task he had set himself required a much more delicate handling. He proceeded to carve out the runes and design he envisioned, creating it into a small mold and then pouring in the liquid silver that had been broiling almost over the fire. He held it with a tong and let it cool off in the water, steam billowing up and all around him. Sweat trickled down his forehead and neck but he did not care. His back and arms ached but the pain was nothing.

And then, then it was ready. He cracked open the mold, the bead within shimmering forth a cool silver. He swallowed hard, a careful smile curving his lips tentatively when he let it fall on his palm and he studied the intricate runes and the sigil of Durin, then turned it over with his thumb to diligently check whether he had made any mistakes in the family seal of the House of Agor.

Thorin straightened, closing his hand over the small gift in which he had let his love for her seep into its every groove. Even though the chance of her accepting it had perhaps never been more remote, he _had_ to offer it to her. For if he did not give her the courting bead he had made he did not doubt would remain a coward for the rest of his long, lonely life..

* * *

Oín had just left her room for the third time that day, rubbing more salve on the bruises and small cuts she had sustained when Niam entered it after a careful knock. All in all she had been extremely lucky. Apart from some stiffness in her bones, a dull aching in her muscles and the sore glow radiating off of the discolored patches scattered over her body she was uninjured. That did not mean the Healer did not want to make absolutely sure there really was nothing much the matter with her. Luckily her cousin was quicker to believe her. Although he did not fully understand what had moved her to leave for Ravenhill on her own -she suspected he _did_ know she had not asked him to come in an attempt to not put him in danger- the relief he experienced at her return more than made up for any pressing questions he had in fact been meaning to ask of her.

"It is the Lady Dís," He announced, adding with a concerned frown, "Are you feeling well enough to receive her?"

Edúr nodded but the gesture must have been rather unconvincing for her cousin hovered a moment longer on the threshold, "If you are not, I am sure she will understand. And as for the Ceremony tonight, I would gladly miss it if you feel you are not up to attending it."

"Thank you, but I really am fine. I just needed to take some rest, that is all. _Truly_." She emphasized upon perceiving his unbelieving look, hastening to school her expression into a neutral one when Niam eventually disappeared and she could hear him exchange a few words with the Dwarrowdam who strode into her room not much later.

Edúr had only just propped herself up against the pillows and started to mumble something incoherent she had meant to be an apology for what she had done but Dís simply held out a hand to her, eyes intent but kind, "Come."

The calm and strong tone in which she had addressed her made Edúr trust the Dwarrowdam in a heartbeat with whatever it was that she was planning to do and she obediently placed her hand in hers. Dís glided over to the wardrobe and pulled open the hefty doors with a loud creak. Still holding on to her hand she let the other brush passed the dresses in it, genuine relishing it seemed in the subtle touch of silk, velvet and lace though Edúr herself could not immediately tear her gaze away from the one the Dwarrowdam herself was wearing.

It was a beautifully made brocade dress with indigo sleeves that were puffy on her shoulders and then split open to fall straight down, revealing the more tightly fitting, long sleeves of her underdress which was white with a shimmering golden sheen and flowed to the floor from her waist down. The exquisite fabric had a sober flower pattern, the lines of which continued on in the one below, above or next to the four leaved plant so the lines constantly met from one flower to the next and formed sharp angled squares as they did. It was also strewn with white pearls, as was the high, white laced collar that covered her skin all the way to where her neck began. The overdress, a softer shade of purple, had a less dominant but equally intricate pattern in golden thread running over it while her hair was pulled back in a single braid that snaked round and round in the back of her neck, gemstones woven into the strands.

She had only just stopped her silly gaping when Dís had evidently made a choice and led her to the hearth so she could bathe in its warmth as she changed into the dress solemnly held out to her. It was slightly tighter at the waist and gradually billowed out as it neared the hem. The top layer was a subdued blue like that tinge the sky acquired on a cold day that was transforming to the night, with black laces running back and forth over her midriff. The taffeta dress underneath was a deep gray, with again dark thread crawling over it like thorny vines. This pattern was on the lapels too which were short and folded to the side so they could be draped over her shoulders. Because the dress was cut several inches under her collarbones, Edúr was relieved albeit it abashed to accept a many layered black pearl necklace from Dís so her bare skin was mostly covered by it.

At the inviting motion of her hand Edúr followed her to the lavish vanity table she had rarely sat behind and sank down on the cushiony stool. As the Dwarrowdam's fingers raked through her hair in soothing motions, separating strands and weaving them in braids, she finally broke the companionable silence that had settled between them.

"I am glad you are safe and sound." She told her, adding with more gravity as her eyes locked onto hers in the mirror, " _Ya nadad-ê_."

Edúr stirred, the fervor with which she wanted to believe her scaring her, making her rush out with her heart clenching, "I doubt he is. He was.. He sounded so _sad_ and.. And I fear I have angered him."

Dís calmly shook her head, "He is angry with himself. Ravenhill holds difficult memories for him. It was where he fought Azog. Where my sons.."

She did not need to finish that sentence, the sorrowful gleam in her eyes told it all. Edúr reached out, arm bent across her chest, to place a hand on the Dwarrowdam's now she had dropped them listlessly on her shoulders.

" _Ashgumruk_.."

Dís gave her a forgiving smile she did not deserve, squeezed her shoulders briefly and visibly struggled to swallow down tears, "It is hard to see him so shaken, he rarely accepts help.."

"Do you think he.. Will he recover?"

"A dwarf as stubborn as he is? I do not doubt it." Dís huffed out, eyes suddenly glistening with mirth.

"And does he know why I did it?" Edúr asked shyly after a pause, but she yearned to know and if someone did it would be his Sister.

They exchanged a long look of understanding at her pleading tone before Dís remarked in feigned remonstrance, "He _should_."

The Dwarrodam's mouth quirked into a gleeful smile at Edúr's sincere bewilderment following her words, expression caught somewhere between weary doubt and tentative joy.

"Do not ponder tomorrow yet when there is to be a feast before it. Tonight is for celebrating our homecoming. _Your_ homecoming." She stated rather cryptically, and leaned forward, hands still on her shoulders, "Now, I must leave you, my dear. Don't even think of not coming, I have instructed your cousin to accompany you to the Gallery of the Kings within the hour and I expect to see you there. Would not want to have all my effort to have been in vain." Dís almost reverently brushed her fingers over the braid that rested like a subtle diadem on her head, crawling over it in a small band form ear to ear, while the rest flowed freely down her back. Then she planted a quick kiss against the back of her head and swept out of the room, dress all elegant ruffling and swaying.

* * *

He clenched his fist even tighter around the silver bead, pressing his knuckles against his lips and closing his eyes for a moment to garner the strength he needed to do this. Thorin honestly did not know whether this would become the happiest or most disastrous evening of his life. And it made him nervous. But not less determined. He would either gain her affection or give up all hope that he ever would.

"You are ready, Thorin. No matter what others might say. What _you_ might think. You _are_ ready." Balin said in a steady voice and he turned around to where he had entered the Royal Chambers. The old dwarf looked to be on the verge of tears, he hastily dabbed with a gloved finger at his brown, trustworthy eyes and his silver beard rested neatly trimmed on his maroon overcoat.

"I will take your word for it," Thorin answered him, half jesting and patting him once on the shoulder, "and may _Mahal_ help me if I am not.."

Balin hummed an appreciative laugh, falling into step next to him, something that had become so habitual over the years they had each adapted to find one, common pace. Close to the doors, held open by Guards who held on to the thick, golden rings, stood his Sister, radiant and unmistakably royal in her dress.

"It is one thing to keep _me_ waiting, _nadad_ , but to try our guests' patience.." She remarked cleverly, no trace of accusation in her light tone.

"You were gone earlier, _nana_ ', or I would have left a while ago." He retorted in kind, offering his arm to her. She accepted gracefully with a small bow and the three of them set out to the Gallery of Kings.

As vast as the Hall was it appeared significantly smaller now every single Dwarf in Erebor had gathered in it. There were candles everywhere, a sea of lights flickering in the myriad of movement around it and the many banners fluttered between the tall, polished pillars. The floor a solid gold had never before shone so bright but the enticing glow left him completely unaffected as he set foot on it. On either side of their small procession now joined rows of marching Warriors, their fierce Commander at the lead. They made their slow but steady progress to the other end of the Hall and he felt all the countless eyes following him in his purposeful stride all the way.

Dáin waited for them near the throne all splendor and green marble, his usual smirk plastered on his round face, wild saffron hair as close to tamed as was possible. In his hands he held a small chest which he opened to reveal his Crown. Although he had worn it before, it somehow looked far more intimidating and heavy then it had done those times. Thorin sank to one knee, grateful for Dís standing close enough that he could feel the hem of her dress brush against him. Balin took a step forward, taking the crown from the chest and turning to stand in front of him. All the buzzing and humming of dwarves excitedly exchanging whispers and comments stilled, being replaced by a dignified silence.

A thunderous applause broke loose when Balin placed it on his head, Thorin could feel the Mountain tremble with the loud clapping and he trembled with it. He slowly rose to his feet, humbled by the experience and sharing a look with his Councilor, his trusted friend, thanking him without having to express it in words just how grateful he was for his unwavering support. Then he turned to his Sister and placed his hands around her arms, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers. It was time. And he _was_ ready.

Thorin climbed the few steps to the throne and sat down, eyes lingering for a moment on the statues of his forebears before he fully faced the many dwarves in front of him. Balin had taken his place to the right and Dís to the left in seats fashioned for the occasion. Dwalin had remained standing next to Dáin at the bottom of the dais, his impressive armor glinting almost threateningly, making Thorin briefly wonder whether he wore it because he was the Commander of his army or because he wanted to discourage any Ladies, as well as Bofur, to dare ask him to dance.

Repressing the impulse to grin at this thought, which inadvertently -and _thankfully_ \- lessened his nerves somewhat, Thorin inclined his head, signaling the Guards to stand aside and form two rows opposite each other, halberds thumping on the floor with dull, resounding thuds. Having waited for this everyone started to mill around, soon forming a long, winding line. It was customary for the Noble Families, but not limited to them, to officially present themselves to the King or rather it was he who sought their acknowledgement. As the first dwarves stepped forward to bow and pledge their allegiance that way he promised in return to serve them for as long as he lived. For as long as he wore that Crown. It was a slightly tedious and time consuming ritual but he felt himself swell with pride for the first time since many years that he sat on the throne of his forefathers, knowing he could never have done it without the Company: that was what their race was about, _loyalty_...

As the line of dwarves waiting grew and diminished seemingly at the same time, Thorin scanned the crowd rather feverishly for that one face he yearned to see among it. He kept turning around the bead in his hand, stealing a glimpse at it now and then. When he did find it, when he saw _her_ , next to her Cousin, he had needed to bend all of his will to remain seated and not rush out to meet her. To make Edúr come to him faster as she took slow step after slow step closer. He was hardly aware of what he said in reply to those that bowed or curtseyed in front him, impatiently counting the dwarves still left between them. He knew she would probably refuse him but his heart had made him see clear again through the haze of fear, grief, anger and love, and the proof was in his hands; the courting bead a product of all those powerful and raw emotions channeled into something beyond precious. For _her_.. And her alone. _Would she ever accept it_..?

And then she stood in front of the steps leading up to throne. As he stared back into her blue eyes he was forcefully reminded of their first meeting. How very different he felt towards her now.. How very different they both were.. She curtseyed, intent gaze remaining fixed on him as her dress fanned out around her.

"Niam, Son of Efraín." Thorin acknowledged his bow and sincere 'My King' without really seeing or hearing him, leaning forward so he sat on the very edge of the throne, "And Edúr, Daughter of Edrík." He tried with all his might to communicate to her in that one intense look how much he longed to talk to her, to confess his love for her and when she startingly straightened now her cousin had done so already he could only hope she had understood. Next moment the two dwarves moved out of the way for the next in line and disappeared in the crowd within seconds.

And he had no choice but to wait, courting bead seeming to burn a hole through his hand tightly folded around the silver clasp. It was torture to concentrate on all of the dwarves still in line, there was simply no end to it! And when it came he felt it had been hours since she had stood before him. Finally he could raise himself from the throne and descend it. There could have been an even longer ceremony so he inwardly once again thanked _Mahal_ for the fact he had been able to dissuade his Sister from going through with all of the rituals that tradition required of them. Now he merely had to smile, reply to the occasional well-wishes and felicitations with monosyllabic answers or force himself to politely construct a sentence if it was required of him by the Lords and Ladies that remarked on the decorations, on their rejoicing in the reclaiming of the mountain and upon seeing the crown resting on the head of the frightful heir to Durin.

Once he had made it through the crowd and reached the center which was left open for dancing he had not seen her anywhere. Restless and hoping to find her again soon, Thorin took Dís in his arms and went through the first few paces with her so that the other dwarves around them could do the same. His Sister had released him from his dutiful dance with her much sooner than was usual, exchanging him for Balin, both Dwarves not masking identical knowing smiles.

They swirled away from him in an instant and Thorin did not lose any time in staring after them, instead looking around, searching, growing frustrated with every face that was not hers.

"Your Majesty." A voice close by stopped him and he turned to find himself face to face with Niam. When his eyes instantly flitted to the Dwarrowmaiden on his arm his gut churned in disappointment when it was not her but Bofur's brown-haired niece, "Quite the turn-out." Niam went on conversationally, puzzling Thorin exceedingly until his attention was truly drawn in when the Dwarrow added, "I imagine it must be nearly impossible to find anyone in this crowd."

"It is.." Thorin confessed in a low grumble, narrowing his eyes warily at Nori's apprentice who tilted his head somewhat conspiratorially, saying in genuine earnestness, "I would not be surprised if some would prefer a smaller gathering in, say, the Dining Hall.." He threw him a meaningful look and Thorin finally realized with a powerful jolt surging through him what it was that the Dwarrow was telling him. He offered him a sincere smile in gratitude as Niam respectfully lowered his head before guiding his partner onto the dance floor, they had not even finished one turn when Thorin already hastened out of the Gallery of Kings, spurred on by the wildly throbbing of his heart..

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~Thanks for reading & I'd love to know your thoughts! (^-^b)~

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 **A/N: Aargh, so close, so close now! Hehe ;p I just felt I had to cut it here and wanted this chapter to give both of them the time/space to come to terms with the fact that their love for one another also scares them seeing they're used to a hard life and doing things on their own.. Hopefully that makes sense haha Anyways, I'm planning to write the next chapter this week and hope to get it up before Christmas (if not then the week after), and it's probably going to be my personal favorite…gee I wonder why… ;P Until then, stay tuned folks! :) p.s. Recently I have been really inspired by a Thorin fanvid on youtube made by yawwnpanda and called Thorin Oakenshield: Madness &Greatness, check it out if you haven't seen it yet, seriously, gives me chills every time..!  
**

 **Khuzdul translations:**

" _Ya nadad-ê_." = "My brother also/So is my brother."

" _Ashgumruk_.." = "I am sorry.."

 _Nadad = Brother_

 _Nana' = Sister_

 _As always, all the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the very useful and inspiring website/dictionary of the fantastic Dwarrow Scholar!_


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Yaaay! I made it! I'm so happy I'm able to update just before Christmas! Thanks to everyone who reviewed/faved/followed & I wish all of you a fabulous Christmas!**

 **Sophia Kaiba:** _Thanks for your review! Yes, I know, so close! And I have a feeling they're going to get even closer this chapter.. ;)_

 **Robinbird79:** _Thanks for saying it was a good chapter, totally boosts my confidence ;) I felt Dís would be the right person to 'negotiate' between those two stubborn dwarves that have been so awkward to admit their feelings for fear of them not being reciprocated..well, that, plus the fact that Dís is a pretty impressive dwarrowdam, no way she wasn't going to interfere a little bit to give them that final push in the right direction hihi ;p and they'll find that tunnel soon enough.. da da duuum! Thanks for your review!_

 **Amadeusan:** _I hope you'll think this chapter is a sufficient Christmas present! ;) And I would feel way too evil if I had my heroin suffer too much, she's got enough on her plate to deal with already and there's still some hardships ahead too…but luckily there's some time for some much needed romance before that! ;p Thanks for reviewing and for wishing me a merry Christmas! :D_

 **Angie:** _I always feel sad for Thorin too, well, for both of them, they've had pretty hard lives and deserve some happiness.. And maybe that happiness is just around the corner ;) I figured seeing that Thorin was a blacksmith and dwarves in general take great pride in their craftsmanship it would be more special if he made that bead himself. I wanted for Edúr and Dís to have a moment together before the coronation, as his sister she's the one who has known him all her life so she's the perfect person for Edúr to talk to about Thorin on personal matters. I'm glad you liked the coronation, initially I wanted to make it more elaborate and detailed but then I decided it would be too crowded a place for their confessions so I let Niam drop that obvious hint so he knows where to find her hihi ;) Hope this update was soon enough and thanks for leaving me a review!_

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 **Disclaimer:** The only thing I wanted for Christmas this year were the rights to the Hobbit but unfortunately Santa turned out to be an ***hole so they still belong to Tolkien/PJ.

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 **Chapter XXVIIII**

 **MUSIC** filled the Dining Hall like a pleasant storm of sounds as flute, fiddle, tambourine and kettledrum mingled to weave one harmonious melody, one instrument challenging and entwining with the other in a continuous chase. Edúr ignored the slight dizziness in her head as she whirled around and around, relishing how forgetful the dance made her of that other, much vaster Hall with its seemingly endless golden floor and green, vaulted ceiling. The sheer amount of dwarves that had milled about it like ants in an anthill had only added to her inner restlessness. She had hardly dared watch from among the crowd as Thorin had walked passed with firm, purposeful strides, his Sister and Balin flanking him as the procession of Warriors led by Dwalin headed for the throne.

And then she and Niam had gotten in line, every step closer had made her more nervous and eager to finally see _him_. And as she had curtseyed to the King everything around her had seemingly ceased to exist. She probably should have said something but she could not now remember if she had, all she knew was that she had simply been entrapped by his intense gaze, had reveled in it and wanted so much more of it. How different an audience from their very first one.. Waiting afterwards had therefore felt like a cruel and unbearable punishment. Waiting for other dwarves, other _dams_ , to present themselves had made a wreathing and new emotion flare up inside of her. Had made her impatient and eventually give in to Bofur's invitation to join him and others of the company to a more secluded gathering in the Dining Hall.

She felt so much freer here, among the dwarves she had gotten to know for all these moons that she had stayed in Erebor. The tune swelled and she gladly followed it, increasing her pace with it to allow her longing at least that escape from the confines of her bursting heart. Every fiber of her being shook with the cadence of thumping boots and clapping hands giving a steady heartbeat to the ever growing faster rhythm until suddenly all but the drum grew more subdued and the deep reverberating beatings of it matched the pattern of her feet. Edúr grasped the hem of her dress in both her hands and stamped her feet on the ground until, with the last beat struck, her heel touching the ground coincided with the dull thud of a door closing. Like all those sitting around the fire she looked up to see that the King had entered..

Thorin strode over, never had he looked more majestic. The sapphire blue of his tunic was a rich hue that contrasted brilliantly with the dark, black fur lined robe draped over his shoulders with bands of golden runes flowing down. He wore a broad belt fashioned out of the purest silver and embossed with the anvil and hammer of Durin. The high-ridged crown resting upon his head made him appear even taller and… _powerful_. Edúr stood frozen on the spot, it filled her with joy to think she truly felt he was not just their King, he was _her_ King too. _Uzbad-diya_..

When he approached her she instinctively wanted to curtsey but as soon as she had made to bend her knees and already lowered her head -her admiring gaze self-consciously with it- there was the ruffle of fabric and an instant later she felt his index finger brush under her chin.

"Please. There is no need. Not for you.." Thorin said almost pleadingly in his deep voice, gently lifting her head so she would look at him again. She could not, nor wanted, to disobey him in this. As soon as their eyes met she was struck anew with how intimidatingly handsome he was. His sharp nose that seemed sculpted to perfection was matched by stern brows, strong jaw and cut cheekbones, whereas his short beard effortlessly blended in with his long raven hair, silver strands running through it glistening the same color as his misty gray eyes.

Edúr tried to find her voice, feeling everyone's inquisitive gazes on the two of them, but failed miserably when Thorin's thumb grazed her cheek briefly before he also became aware of the others' presence and almost shyly and seemingly with great reluctance dropped his hand to his side. A dwarf which turned out to be Bofur cleared his throat nearby and motioned for them to sit. Both of them momentarily powerless to do anything else but obey Edúr kneeled down in front of the hearth, reclaiming her old space before she had got up to dance. Without even seeming to think about it Thorin sat down next to her, back leaning against the pillar upholding the marble mantelpiece, one leg bent, the other half crossed under it.

Edúr stared at a spot in the thick rug, at a zigzagging thread of faded red, her hand resting on the floor but inches away from where the dwarf next to her had placed his. Holding her breath she sprawled her fingers, heart skipping a beat when they bumped into his. At first she felt them making to retreat as if he had thought the touch his fault but then to her relief and rapture they crawled closer again until the back of his pinky rubbed tenderly against hers. Next it had hooked around her slender finger and caressed the inside, every slow stroke releasing thrill after thrill to run along her spine, effectively robbing her of her breath.

Gathering her courage Edúr had been about to lift her eyes and direct them to him when Ori came shuffling their way. He nodded at her in his usually amicable manner then offered something to Thorin next to her with a respectful bow. She experienced such a sense of loss as his fingers retreated slowly but inevitably from hers that she only understood what it was that the young dwarf had given the King when the sound of strings trembling at once filled the entire room. She could not tear her gaze away from Thorin as he played the small, golden harp he held reverently in his embrace, his expression peaceful not tormented at the touch of the precious material as it rested against his chest, both hands dancing along it to produce the most soothing song she had ever heard. And yet, the succession of soft, both high and low tunes that seemed perpetuated echoes of the ones before were more than captivating. They were almost a bewitchment, making her heart beat faster and faster instead of calming it down.

A sudden silence signaled the end of the song and although she had wanted to continue listening to it for the rest of the night she knew she was more eager for attention to be drawn away from him. _From both of them_.. The other dwarves hummed and gave their King grateful and awed glances before Nori picked up his fiddle and started a ditty everyone soon joined by clapping, whooping or singing. Harp placed on the ground next to him, Edúr felt how Thorin leaned towards her and she could not stop herself from tilting her own head so his lips hovered but an inch from her ear. The sensation, the _closeness_ , enthralled her beyond anything, far beyond her wavering control..

"Will you come with me?" He whispered, his warm breath tickling her skin. She instantly tried to show him her consent by again searching for his hand with her own, not trusting her voice to work. She could hear him huff out a soft, deeply pleased rumble at this and his fingers entwined with hers as he got to his feet and lend her his strength to do the same.

Leaving behind the members of the Company immersed in their music and merry making, Edúr snaked her other hand around his arm, the feeling of him as her anchor felt so right, felt so _good_ , that she could not help but for hope to wholly fill her heart as Thorin led her wordlessly out of the circle of light..

* * *

Thorin could not help but cast a side glance at the dwarrowmaiden on his arm for every other step that he took and each time she overcame her shyness and answered it -with the hint of a dimple in her cheek and the beginnings of a smile- his heart soared on its own accord. He could not describe to himself the emotion that had welled up inside of him when he had entered the Dining Hall but he knew what he wanted the moment he had asked her to come with him and leave it.

Seeing her becoming one with the music, her feet nimbly following a pattern and yet also stamp powerfully on the marble had made him tremble with the same fervor. He was so relieved he had finally found her again after she and her cousin had come before his throne. And he had wanted to be alone with her. He had tried to calm his passion when Ori had offered him the harp and only his loyalty towards the Company had made him oblige. But now.. With that same feverish sensation still running through his veins, he allowed it untamed and unchecked..

He channeled his longing to anchor where their hands met, to where their fingers entwined and only came to a standstill once he had found the place he wanted to take her. The idea had entered his head only after they had left the Dining Hall but he felt glad he had acted on that impulse. The Moss Garden looked otherworldly serene, the green layer covering sculpted rocks and stone glistened with frost in the sparse moonlight that filtered in the cavernous room through small, square windows with deep shafts that had been diligently carved out of the mountain a long time ago. A few benches were scattered through the garden, placed next to the path that winded through it and went on out of sight.

He turned towards her, hand still holding on to hers and the way she looked up at him, blue eyes brighter than ever, made a thrill run through him. "Edúr.." He breathed out, relishing the sound of her name and how she responded to the intimacy of it in clutching his robe and pulling him closer, "Edúr.." He repeated yearningly, forcing himself to go on for if he did not say it now he feared he would soon be too intoxicated with her presence to do so.

"You must know what I have wanted to say to you. What I _need_ to tell you. Forgive me for not knowing the right words. For having been so blind.. I saw nothing but strife, greed and gold. I saw enemies where there were none. I did not understand my own heart. I was such a fool. But _now_.. Now I see you. I see only _you_.." Thorin reached out to cup her face, the single, slow caress along her cheekbone seemed enough to set his own skin on fire and made her tremble, "I know I have not the right to hope.. But could you.. Could you ever love me? Please say you could love me too, my _One_.." His ardor made his voice husky and gravelly, a tremor traveled through him and it was growing more and more impossible not to give in to his longing. Not to brings his lips to hers.. But he could not. Not yet. _What if she rejected him_..

There were sparks igniting in the blue depths of her eyes and the careful smile breaking through on her beautiful face made him hold his breath in unbearable anticipation, " _Uzbad-ê_.. I already do.. _Kurdu-ê ahrur du kurdu-zu_.."

Thorin huffed out a long held in smile now hers grew, eyes narrowing a little in affection. Affection for _him_.. He could barely believe she had said those words. This could not be true.. He did not deserve her love..!

His declaration and her own truly sinking in, Edúr blushed, gaze dropping from his own and yet tilting her head to lean more in his hand still lovingly molded around the side of her face. Thorin found her coyness irresistible, he reveled in how her hands remained on his chest almost unconsciously holding him back as he bent further down. He was so close he could count each eyelash if he wanted to, he could hear how her breath hitched, could feel his lips tingle as they grazed hers…and then the rim of his elaborate crown bumped gently against her forehead.

She let out a partly stifled puff of air, expression lighting up with a playful mirth as her eyes strayed up to rest on his crown, chin subtly nudging towards it too, "Is it as heavy as it looks?" Edúr asked him, the teasing tone of her voice alone made it clear her mind was not really concerned with finding out the answer to that question. The challenging attempt to delay contrasting with the same desire as he held radiating off of her made Thorin even more desirous of kissing her.

"Aye, it has the weight of the mountain." He told her with a quirk of his mouth now a plan had hatched in his mind. He retreated both his hands, taking more pleasure than he knew he should when Edúr's eyes wavered for a split second and she bit her lower lip. Then he lifted his crown off his head and placed it reverently on hers before she could stop him. As he had expected it was too big and slid over her ears. Without giving her warning Thorin let go of it, making her catch it with her hands so it wouldn't fall in front of her eyes. They widened the moment she had unraveled his intentions and with both hands needed to keep the crown in place, and thus no longer on his chest to hold him back on behalf of her bashfulness, it was not only _his_ heart to start racing uncontrollably it seemed.

Thorin snaked one arm around her waist and pulled her close, their bodies a perfect fit against the other, while his hand brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. Sparing the gold and black ridges resting on those amber waves but a brief glance, he softly pressed his own against her parted lips. She did not recoil but responded, moving slowly and tentatively at first as they gingerly explored each other, one mouth latching on to the other until the longing he had harbored for so long built up quickly and made him want more. It thrilled him that Edúr seemingly fell prey to her own desire for him too for both burst free from whatever restrained had held them back all this time.

It was bliss to have her kiss him back with equal ferociousness, to have their feelings guide them as he pulled his lips back so hers would cling cravingly to them only to close that gap once more, over and over again. The sensation of her supple lips denting as he enclosed them, as they melted with his own was wreaking havoc with his self-control, it sparked such a heat within him that simply seemed unstoppable now it was no longer shackled by his doubt that Edúr would ever feel the same.

With their kiss deepening even further, now punctuated by small, desperate gasps for air, he felt her hands join their passion as they curled around his shoulders, then his neck. But an instant later he realized what this must lead to. He pulled back a little as she suddenly froze to see how his crown had slid partly over her eyes. She laughed a clear, heartfelt laugh that immediately triggered his own to rumble up through his lungs. Thorin lifted the crown with his thumb so it would rest on her forehead again, saying in affectionate surprise, "Ah, there you are again, _kalmrûna_. I do not wish to be parted from those radiant orbs of blue, not for a moment. Never again.."

"There is only one way to achieve that." She told him in return, the unmistakable mischief tinging her voice and sparking little lights in her eyes sending a more than pleasant shudder to go through him. Edúr took the crown and turned it in her hands, placing it with sudden solemnity back on his head, "It is yours, after all. _Dashat Durinul_.."

His heart swelled, never had it beat this loudly in his ears and he stared back into her eyes, helplessly lost in their blue sincerity and a single tear escaping his control so it trickled down his cheek. Her smile held so much love he could not move as she clasped her hands together behind his neck, raising herself to stand on tiptoes so she could kiss the tear away. She planted the first kiss under his eye, the next just below that and then further down, all the way to the edge of his chin. He tilted his head forward, closer to hers and rubbed his nose lovingly against hers in gratitude, feeling he could never find the words to thank her for accepting his love for her. For reciprocating it. For caring about _him_ of all dwarves. He had no idea how this was possible, how this dream could be real, but _Mahal_ he was grateful for this moment they shared. An overwhelming happiness filled him at the precious thought of all those moments they might share in the future, the moments he now dared hope they _would_ share..

On the verge of finding his voice again, desperately wanting to tell her again how much he loved her, how now more than ever he knew she was his One, the sudden, invading sounds of stone cracking violently before crushing hard had a panic-stricken look gather in her eyes, making him forget to breathe. Thorin held on tightly to her stiffened form and followed her line of vision over his shoulder, blood running cold as the experienced warrior in him instantly recognized the clamoring of weapons clashing against one another as they mingled with the shouts of dwarves and the shrieks and cries of orcs. _Their enemy had found the tunnel_ …!

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~Thanks for reading & Let me know what you think! (^-^b)~

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 **A/N: Sorry that this chapter was a bit shorter than usual but it felt like the right moment to cut it 'cause it was too good and nasty a cliffie to pass up hehe ;) Merry Christmas everyone!**

 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _Uzbad-diya_ = her king

 _Uzbad-ê_ = my king

 _Kurdu-ê ahrur du kurdu-zu._ = My heart belongs to your heart.

 _Kalmrûna_ = Crown Lady

 _Dashat Durinul_ = Son of Durin

 _As always, all the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the extensive website/dictionary of the brilliant Dwarrow Scholar! :)_


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: (Belated) HAPPY NEW YEAR! 33333**

 **Sophia Kaiba:** haha I always love your enthusiasm and heartfelt reviews! :D Yes, I'm sorry for ending with that cliffhanger, I can't promise I won't do that kind of thing again but this chapter should be safe. I'm so happy you think Thorin and Edúr are sweet together, and seeing they now have at long last admitted their feelings they'll definitely have more intimate moments like the one in moss garden.. Thanks for reviewing and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter too!

 **Robinbird79:** Thank you, I kinda felt there was a weird risk involved that when two characters as blind and stubborn as those two dwarves finally fess up it can maybe feel a little anti-climactic or awkward but I'm relieved you thought the scene was a 'success' ;) And yes, now they'll have to deal with that tunnel but even more with what it will lead to (figuratively not literally haha) Thank you for the review!

 **Angie:** Hi! It felt great to finally have Edúr and Thorin admit their feelings, it was a relief not just to them but for me writing it too haha Glad you like those little details like Edúr kissing away his tear, that's what makes writing fun to me! Thanks for your review and hope you'll enjoy this chapter too in which they will have to deal with those orcs…but there'll also be 'sweet time' between Thorin and Edúr ;)

 **janedoe4251:** Thanks for your review, seeing it was on an earlier chapter I sent you a PM, just so you know ;)

 **SilverGhostKitsune:** Thank you for saying that you love this story, makes me so happy! :) Hope this is soon enough for an update! ;p

 **Riss94:** Thanks, I did have a nice holiday, I hope you had too! And also thanks for your review and the encouragement, I need that sometimes, so thank you! :D

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 **Disclaimer:** _I'm told miracles do happen but unfortunately not for me 'cause I still don't own the Hobbit, those rights belong to PJ/Tolkien, I'm just hijacking the characters, adding a few OCs and wreaking havoc with the storyline for a certain supposedly dead dwarven king.. ;p_

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 **Chapter XXX**

 **FEAR** instantly pooled in her stomach as the hunched form of an orc appeared around the corner, its ugly face a sickly hue and its rugged knife flashing menacingly in the sparse light of lanterns. It let out a savage yipping and jumped forward, weapon raised and ready to strike. Thorin moved faster than she herself could now her brain was still processing what it saw. He pulled her protectively behind him and she could only just see around him how, with a shrill cry, the charging orc joltingly froze in his attack and fell forward on the ground, an axe embedded in his back. A dwarven warrior stood weaponless several paces behind the slain enemy, breathing hard and flicking a look over his shoulder as the sounds of fighting increased.

" _Zimrith ib-bekan ra inkhith id-utrâd!_ _Igritu zû!"_ Thorin ordered him in his booming voice that seemed capable of shaking the very foundation of the Mountain right now, making the armored dwarf whisk around to face his King again. He nodded and instantly started for the arch behind them that would lead him further into the Erebor.

Edúr followed him with her eyes as he neared fast, then locked them with those gray orbs now widened with a concern that made her shiver uncontrollably. "Go with him." Thorin said as he briefly encircled her wrists with his hands to steady her wavering balance, rooting her momentarily to the spot and piercing her with his intense stare, "Go.."

"I am not leaving you!" She protested in undiluted vehemence. She would not be send away! Not now..!

"You cannot stay. Please.." His soft tone was pleading as he made to take a step back.

She shook her head at him, the scene too much like the last time she had seen her father, when he had stepped away from her and faced that horde of orcs without her. Desperate to not have Thorin go, to not have him leave her, she reached out with her hands, gripping his robe to stop him. He gave her a sad and proud smile then unhooked her fingers tenderly from their hold on his garment, "I will be right behind you."

"Thorin-" Edúr struggled with all her power to hold on to him but both her voice and attempt were cut off when the warrior returned, bringing with him more guards than she could count at first glance. Using the distraction he took a determined step back from her, then another, and another. Although she believed in his promise she had much rather stay and enter the fight with him. She watched in horror as Thorin retrieved the axe still protruding from the dead orc and called back several instructions to the reinforcements that Edúr did not catch. She saw his mouth move as his eyes did not leave hers, but the throbbing of her heart pounding in her ears was practically drowning all other sounds. This could not be happening..

Instinct. Loyalty. _Love_.. All of those and more made her clench her fists and make to follow him but she was tethered to the place she stood. Only now did she realize a handful of guards had grouped around her, the two flanking her even having grasped her arms. She twisted her body left and right and dragged her heels over the ground to stop them from taking her away but it was as futile an attempt as it had been that day in her Keep when Niam had forced her to leave it and her father -her entire clan- behind facing certain death.

Thorin gave her one last long look before turning around and disappearing around the corner, it felt like her heart had stopped beating now she could no longer see him. Now he was gone..! She thought she could hear his battle cry rent the air, causing goosebumps to erupt all over her skin but no matter how much she wanted to race after him the guards took no pity on her shouts and pleas, following only their King's commands. Before she knew it she was taken away from the Moss Garden. Away from Thorin and the battle he had headed straight into even though it was _his_ life that their enemy wanted to end. Edúr let out a pained gulp at the realization, body increasingly losing its strength to resist the guards who kept dragging her away.

Everything was a blur from then on. Edúr barely registered the many hallways and stairs of Erebor she passed through until they reached her family's chambers. Three guards positioned themselves outside while the other two stood sentinel on the inside, right next to the door. No matter what she did or how hard she tried the sturdy dwarves would not move, their stoic expressions did not even change as they remained frustratingly impervious to her demands, begging and -eventually- the prolonged stream of Khuzdul curses she muttered barely audible but audible enough under her breath.

She could have been pacing like a chained, despairing prisoner for hours but it could also have been mere minutes. Edúr could not tell which. The only information she had received had come from her own Raven. Morkai had borne inside through the narrow, high windows, telling her of a fight on Ravenhill where the dwarves of Erebor had stumbled upon their enemy as they had seemingly unearthed a pathway that led all the way to the Lonely Mountain. With a hasty snap of his beak he had then taken off again to gather more knowledge, leaving her on her own again. Other than that ill news Edúr did not know what was going on and it scared her. For all she knew orcs could be spreading through the whole of Erebor by now. Could be slaughtering as they went, just like they had done in her Keep. _And she was stuck here not able to do anything against it_!

Edúr grinded her teeth, turning on her heels once again to stomp in the opposite direction only to return the same way but a moment later. Her thoughts were plaguing her with dreadful thought after dreadful thought. It was maddening that from her current location it was impossible to ascertain whether or not the fights in the Moss Garden had come to an end already. Whether or not their enemy there had been defeated by now or if- _Or if they had succeeded in killing the King_..

The sharp stab that went through her heart at this coincided with the heavy grunt of the door being pushed open. Edúr turned towards it, paralyzed with both dread and hope, her frozen limbs only freed when a tall dwarf with long, black hair entered.

"Thorin! Thank _Mahal_ …!" She exclaimed, ignoring all propriety and rushing forward. Edúr flung her arms around his waist, burying her face in his broad chest. He stumbled back a little at the impact of her body against his but then steadied the both of them and she could feel him return the embrace. His hands were wrapped tightly around her shoulders and he rested his chin on her head with a blissful, soothing rumbling she could feel beneath his ribs. For a moment all Edúr could do was take in the delicious, assuring scent of him. She breathed it in until it threatened to intoxicate her and brought tears to her eyes.

"I am sorry.. Still your worries, _kurdu-ê_. I am here, with you. I kept my promise.."

She swallowed hard, quelling an emerging sob and letting out a strained sigh which she hoped would also take the remnants of that terrible fear from her. She slowly lifted her head, some of his long strands of hair tangling with her own as she retreated a little from his harboring hold. It was then that she spotted movement from the corner of her eyes which soon after found Dwalin march over the threshold. The seasoned warrior instantly picked up on the light blush creeping up on her cheeks and raised a hand as if in apology, "Do not hold back on my account, lass," He assured her in his gruff voice, "I fully share your relief that our King has survived despite foolishly entering the fight he should have left to me."

Dwalin exchanged a meaningful look with Thorin, stern but still every inch ready to defend his king if need be, judging by the orc blood on his armor he already had done just that this evening. He then thoughtfully turned away from them, subtly motioning for the guards to leave. At his curt and dismissive nod the two dwarves sprang to live, hurrying away a little too quickly and eagerly. Something that did not escape Thorin's notice.

"I take it your were not particularly pleased with their company?" He queried cautiously, something close to amusement shimmering in his eyes as he averted them back to her.

"No. I was not." She answered him, not able to completely withhold the frustration she had felt from seeping into her tone.

"Still, I am relieved to find that a mere _five_ of my strongest guards were enough to bring and keep you here. With your temper I was afraid the number might not be sufficient."

Edúr appreciated his attempt to make light of the situation, the relief still spreading through her made her almost giddy -drunk even- herself and she gladly latched onto the humbled smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Are you all right? Are you injured?" She asked in her turn, looking him over with searching eyes, hoping she would not find any wounds but miraculously he seemed devoid of those though it was hard to tell with the splatter and stains of orc blood that had seeped into his clothes.

"Pray do not worry, there is not a scratch on me.." Thorin, obviously touched by her concern for him, tried to pacify her anxious need to be certain of this, hands tenderly squeezing her sides as he still held on to her. Nevertheless, she narrowed her eyes at him when she spotted a thin cut just under his temple and used her thumb to wipe away a drop of red blood trickling down from it.

"Ah.. Maybe there was one that escaped my notice but thankfully not yours.." He confessed with unmistakable fondness.

"What happened? How did those orcs even enter Erebor? I thought that the main gate was the only way in.." Edúr pressed him, prompted by her worry that had not yet fully dissipated.

He let out a heavy sigh at this, gaze briefly flitting down and back up again, "Not too long ago Balin found an old map in the Library. It contained the plans for a tunnel that supposedly ran from the mountain itself, all the way to Ravenhill. We did not know for certain if it had indeed been built or not, though it seemed that today, despite our precautions, the orcs found the entrance on the other end and managed to penetrate Erebor. They did not get far," He added, forestalling her having to utter her next question, "The warriors that had been stationed at Ravenhill and tasked with both locating the unknown whereabouts of the tunnel and eliminating the orcs that were after it too, in the end managed to chase our enemy all to the way to Erebor. Most of those vile creatures were contained and killed within the garden, those that slipped passed were soon stopped too." Thorin paused, a flicker of regret in his eyes, "If I had known it was there that the tunnel led to.. I would never have-"

"You could not have known." Edúr was quick to stop his apology, the hurt expression that marred his looks cut her to the core, "I am just thankful you survived this."

"Aye.. I did. But so many did not. We lost more than a dozen. A loss I could have prevented. I _should_ have prevented."

"This mountain was hard won but our enemy is tenacious and still manifold. It will not easily give up. It will continue to attack. Your people know this. And they also know that you will be there to fight alongside them."

At a loss for words Thorin simply reached up to take her hand in his and pressed a kiss on the back of it, eyes briefly closing in fervor as he did.

"What of the feast in the Gallery of Kings? Is everyone safe?"

"They are. It is heavily guarded but none yet know what has happened. I do not want panic to spread at such a moment as this when we are still checking every corner and searching every nook and cranny for more enemies lurking no matter how small the chance is that any remain. Your cousin is among them, though I believe Bombur mentioned he would offer Niam a place to sleep in his family's house. I may have strictly advised secrecy the Company rarely abides by any rules, least of all mine, I would not be surprised if they take it upon themselves to stand watch outside of the Gallery all night."

There was a loud and diverted snort from Dwalin at this, making Thorin stir and straighten as if he the urgency with which he had entered now returned in full force again, "I am certain there is no longer any danger but I would like you to stay in the Royal Chambers. The distance between there and the South Wing makes me ill at ease.. We have several guest rooms, you could use one of those."

For a moment he looked tense, nervous almost but then she nodded, releasing a relieved smile to break through his expectant expression, "I confess I would prefer that to staying here. Alone.. But might I change first?"

"Yes. Of course." He simply stated, seemingly too pleased with her acceptance of his request to notice how his trusted friend and fierce warrior observed them from under arched brows when Thorin led her out of the main chamber. He had opened the door to her bedchamber and only realized where he had accompanied her to when he was halfway inside. Maybe it was because of how a great tension had surged through her blood for as long as she had waited for Thorin to return, but it was extremely difficult to restrain a laugh when the King now startled like a Dwarrowling and whisked around, mumbling in a faltering voice so unlike him, "Forgive me.. I will wait outside."

He let go of her hand and brushed passed her, something suspiciously close to a crimson tinge on the sides of his face that instantly brought out a similar response on her own cheeks. Knowing she should not tarry, Edúr nonetheless slid out of her boots and allowed herself one blissful moment spread out on her bed to relive that one fresh memory in all its vivid clarity: She closed her eyes and had her fingers tentatively, _disbelievingly_ , trace the lingering ghost of the tingling touch on her lips where his had so passionately kissed them..

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The moment the double doors swung open to receive the three of them Balin and Dís rose as one from their respective seats, one having stared almost melancholically into the fire, chin resting on his gloved hand, the other distractedly coiling and uncoiling her necklace around a finger.

" _Nadad_! Finally! We were worried-" His sister's voice instantly trailed off upon seeing who else had entered the Royal Chamber with him and the sturdy warrior. Thorin felt Edúr's grip tightening in the crook of his elbow, making him place his hand over hers in reassurance. Next instant he realized how needless the gesture was for Dís strode over, breathing out a puff of pent up emotion, and threw her arms around the dwarrowmaiden at his side. He could not contain a smile as Edúr, slightly taken aback at first, soon returned the embrace wholeheartedly. Eyes sheening over with tears that started spilling from their corners his sister then turned to him, the look that passed between them rendering any words superfluous. Thorin let his forehead briefly rest against hers, grateful for her constant presence in his life, for her patience with him and for having pushed him to open his eyes at last.

Dwalin, meanwhile, had walked over to his older brother. Both dwarves patted the other on the shoulder in equal relief and gladness that their King had come out of the failed assassination attempt unscathed. Once Dís had released him, Thorin had craved for Edúr's hand on his arm again but his sister beat him to it and guided her to a seat, insisting she would take the one she had herself occupied but a moment ago. Knowing he should not feel this way he nevertheless experienced a sense of distance he wished he could close again that very moment. Thorin was not familiar with this newfound longing, with this _impatience_ , it was like a pebble had been thrown in a still lake and the ripples breaking the surface only grew to larger and more powerful circles. Now he had confessed all that was in his heart to her those feelings had swelled in a similar pattern it seemed. All that had happened in the last few hours had only made him feel more. Opening his heart fully, he knew, would still be a jolting and jarring process, but now he had offered it to her, now she had _accepted_ it, he reveled in the warm glow he felt spreading in his chest. Had he been beyond the point of no return before, he definitely was now.

Tearing his eyes finally away from Edúr and his sister talking in subdued voices Thorin made for the hearth, taking off his crown and placing it with the reverence it deserved on the mantelpiece. With two fingers he rubbed his temple in an attempt to order his thoughts, see clearer what had happened, what had been set in motion and what needed to happen next. He was glad when Balin drew him into the conversation he was having on this very topic with his sibling, though Thorin doubted the old dwarf had been aware of the full extent of his preoccupied mind. To think of Moss Garden was not only to relive again that rush of blood pumping in his ears as he had entered the fight against the orcs, it also brought back the tangible memory and almost haunting touch of her lips against his own, of her lips responding to his, of her being so incredibly near it was hard to believe it had not been a dream..

"That was a close call. _Too_ close." Balin remarked, tilting his head and narrowing his beady brown eyes meaningfully at him, making Thorin reluctantly look away from Edúr when she had just returned his gaze, the small, barely perceptible smile curving the corners of her mouth causing his to mimic the movement in return.

"Though I am glad to see it was not only the evil intent of our enemy that will make this night memorable." The old dwarf mused out loud, letting out a chuckle when Thorin felt the sides of his neck prickle in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think his friend would not see right through him. Thorin slowly nodded in acknowledgement of Balin's keen insight, reminding himself as he sometimes had to forcefully do, that there was no need to hold up a facade, to rein in his emotions and steel his thoughts. _Not in the company of these dwarves_.

"We may have been able to thwart their plans this time, but they will try again." Thorin eventually said, turning his back to the flames.

"What do you propose we do?" Came Dís' question from the sofa opposite the fireplace, she and Edúr were sitting shoulder to shoulder and it touched him more than he could ever put into words how they had found comfort and support in each other's company. He swallowed hard, briefly feeling the familiar pressure that came with being King as two pairs of eyes as well as the Fundin brother's attention remained expectantly trained on him.

"You will go.." It was Edúr who found her voice first. Her unhesitant statement, her unwavering belief in the decision he had internally already made but not spoken out loud, had hot tingles shoot up his spine. Only a few could read his mind like she had now and it thrilled him more than anything had ever done before how he felt their connection strengthening, as if a cord was between them, invisible to the naked eye but there, and it would only grow stronger from now on..

"Yes. There is no choice. There probably never was but we cannot afford to do nothing now. I will not wait within these halls for our enemy to strike at us again. To put my people at risk when it is my duty to protect them."

"But, brother, is it not also your duty to protect yourself?" Dís argued, a pleading edge to her tone. Thorin took a step closer to both her and Edúr, heart clenching as he was fully aware of the hurt he might well be causing his sister with his decision but he was adamant.

"I will go myself. I feel I must for it is my life that the orcs want, it is me that is forcing my people to face a danger they might have been spared had I acted sooner. This is my responsibility exactly because I am King. I cannot ask others to bear this burden for me."

"That may be so, but you cannae refuse those who vowed to fight this evil alongside you from coming along." Dwalin crossed his arms defiantly over his chest, the armor he still wore clanking dully in the process.

Thorin grinned in both gratitude and pride as he inclined his head to the commander of Erebor's army while his brother hummed a deep hum in agreement, a glint of worry gathering in his eyes.

"You know I have to go, Balin." He told the old dwarf who struggled to contain the emotion bubbling to the surface before he eventually let out a resigned sigh and nodded thoughtfully as if more to himself. Thorin lightly touched the dwarf's elbow with his hand as he passed him, knowing the pain it cost him to let him do this, to let him go. But he had to.. For his people. For himself. And especially for Edúr, for the promise he had made her many weeks ago that he would travel with her to Gundabad, face down the enemy lurking there once and for all..

Even in the sparse light of the fire he could see she was pale and tired as his eyes met with Edúr's, but he also knew they had to discuss this. _Alone_. Thorin locked eyes with his sister, communicating wordlessly the request she instantly fathomed even before he spoke, "Although we cannot waste time I doubt sleepy heads and befuddled minds will be able to come up with solid plans. It is late, we will discuss this in great detail with the council tomorrow for we must act and act soon. But first let us get some much needed rest."

"Yes, I for one am more than ready to retire." Dís backed up his words, rising to her feet.

"Aye, wise words indeed." Balin seconded before he only half succeeded in suppressing a yawn, already making to go and starting to prod his brother to move too.

"I assume Lady Edúr will stay with us tonight?" Dís inquired, indicating for her to remain seated which she did although she seemed a little unsure of where to look and Thorin realized with a not inconsiderable amount of satisfaction that she tried to have her eyes rest anywhere but on him.

"Yes. I have already instructed a servant to prepare a guest room for her." He hurried to answer his sister now even in the short span of time that his gaze had been glued to Edúr his thoughts had already started to wander, his heart to beat in eager anticipation at the prospect of soon being alone with her.

"Good. Then I bid everyone goodnight and leave you in good faith that you will be so courteous as to show our guest to her room without entering yourself?" Dís added, her tone sweet and strict at the same time, one hand resting on her hip completing the picture and making her the spitting image of their mother. Thorin could see Edúr tense a little just as he did. She stared at her feet, unmoving and seemingly holding her breath too.

Before he could answer it was Dwalin that remarked in a deadpan voice, "I wouldn't be too sure of that, princess."

Thorin felt the hair in the back of his neck rise in shame, remembering but all too well his earlier mistake though the sensation was assuaged by the fact that it evoked a shy smile from Edúr as she undoubtedly remembered the same moment.

"You are volunteering as a chaperone then I take it?" Dís shot back in good humor, making Dwalin's cheeks flush in reticent protest, only his sister could make the most hardened of all dwarves blush. Thankfully both then decided they had teased and embarrassed him enough and made to leave, his sister inclining her head at both himself -throwing in a half stern look the meaning of which did not escape him- and Edúr with an unmistakable gleeful spark twinkling in her eyes and Dwalin bent his back as far as his armor would allow in a respectful bow. Balin followed the two of them, sending him one of his trademark knowing looks and a kind wink in Edúr's direction.

The moment the door closed and they were truly on their own she looked up at him, the blue of her irises bright and alluring. Thorin was defenseless against the enticement and closed the distance between them with ambling steps which only served to fuel the brightness in her eyes. He deliberately delayed sitting down, first shrugging off his robe and draping it over her like a blanket.

"I am to sleep here, then?" She asked, mirth making her tone sound lighter than he had ever heard it before.

"You may have to. As you know I am but a mere slave to my sister's instructions and this is the only way I can stay with you longer."

His answer seemed to please her for Edúr huffed out a laugh and nestled herself more in his robe as if she did not object to that plan, prompting him to add with a sense of regret, "I'm afraid it might smell of orc at the moment though.." An enigmatic smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at his words, instantly rousing his curiosity.

"It still smells more of you." She explained, eyes not directly meeting his though he was finally able to unravel the mysterious glint of satisfaction in them.

"And that is a good thing?" He probed, her growing grin so contagious it made him return it without even thinking about it.

"It is.."

Her admission released that warmth he had felt before when he had kissed her to spread through his chest and when she lifted the robe a little and her hand strayed subtly but not less meaningfully to the empty spot next to her he more than willingly obeyed. He sat down, self-consciously trying to leave enough of an appropriate distance between them but his companion clearly would have none of it. Thorin rumbled a laugh as she arranged his robe to cover him partly too with an overzealous and exaggerated care, he relishing every minute movement and adjustment she made on his behalf and she radiating a happy glow in the knowledge he was observing her.

That task done there was a slight hesitation and tenseness in the way her shoulders set but this time he was the one to remove all uncertainty and unfamiliarity, tenderly guiding her to fall against him. Did the closeness feel tentative at first to the both of them, soon he could feel her settle against him and he reveled in the sense of her weight pressing on his chest. Her head rested in the nook between his shoulder and neck while her hair prickled his beard in a way that was beyond pleasing.

"Thorin.."

She began after a moment in which the fire simply crackled and they seeped in each other's warmth, a soothing sensation both felt in need of after all that had happened. The tone of her voice, though, was cautious and earnest. He knew what she was going to say and had prepared himself as best for it as he could, "Yes?"

"I am coming with you." He could feel her close her fingers tightly around his tunic with her resolution, making his heart thump harder against them. Thorin allowed for a brief silence before he reached for her hand on his chest and enveloped it with his own. "I know.."

Edúr lifted her head from his shoulder to stare into his eyes, the outer rim of the deep blue of hers as ever encircling that softer, crystalline hue. _Mahal_ she was close..

"You are not going to stop me."

"It would be futile even if I attempted it." He answered her wisely, amused by the mix of surprise and relief that one sentence had contained. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear as he did, "However," Thorin let his hand hover, knuckles softly against the side of her neck and his thumb tracing the curved ridge of her ear's helix, "I would appreciate it if you did not charge at an army of orcs singlehandedly. _Again_.."

Had her expression been softened by his caress of her ear, it now brightened in what he suspected was mischief at his playfully reproachful emphasis. "Those on Ravenhill hardly possessed such numbers to make an army. Nor would there be quite that many left in Gundabad. So you see, as there will be no need for such a promise I will refrain from giving it." She told him evenly, remaining purposefully evasive which prompted him to snort when she inadvertently reminded him of someone. A gray-robed and pointed-hatted someone.

"I am surprised you have never met our Company wizard. He could be just as vague and unbendable when he chose to be. Which was often.." He added in an afterthought and huffed out the last bit in feigned exasperation with his eyes flitting up the ceiling and back. Thorin then sighed as if in unwilling resignation, relishing all of her attention solely bent on him, her smile broadening as she bit her lower lip in anticipation of what he was going to say, "Very well, if you will not give your word then you leave me no choice, I shall simply have to take on any enemy foolish enough to attack you though I should really pity their mistake in singling you out as an opponent instead."

"A resolution as noble as it is ludicrous." A light laugh tumbled out of her mouth and it made the rhythm of his heart speed up.

"Do not tempt me to lock you up in the dungeons again for I will if it is the only way to keep you safe." He threatened, not immediately complying when she swatted at his fingers toying lovingly with her earlobe.

"Fine. I promise." Edúr eventually surrendered, giving up on chasing his hand away with which he had proceeded to gently stroke her jawline, "But only if you give me your word you will not take any risk you need not take."

"I give you my word that I will try." Although her smile remained she instantly narrowed her eyes at his clearly unsatisfactory pledge, making him add because of that subtle gesture alone, "Will me assigning a handful of my most experienced warriors to be my personal guard lessen your worries?"

"Double that number, and it might." Edúr haggled like a merchant would to sell his ware.

"Consider it done." He agreed in a serious voice, his hand sliding off the side of her neck, one finger tapping the tip of her nose once as if to seal the deal they had just struck, "Though if I am to have so many bodyguards, surely you must realize this in turn means nothing short of you being chained to Dwalin the entire time will ease my concern."

"I assure you such a measure won't be necessary."

"Indeed? And may I ask why?"

"Because you should have more confidence in your commander. I am sure he does not need my protection no matter how gladly I would give it."

He could not contain a heartfelt laugh to burst free from his longs but it was soon smothered as she pressed her lips suddenly and longingly against his as if she was convinced she could eat his mirth that way. The initial surprise of her unexpected fervor with which she kissed him was soon replaced by that maddening warmth spreading through him again, making every fiber he possessed tingle and heat up at the same time. He gladly returned it, reveling in the blissful sense of her lips tugging at his this time. Her manner was chaste at first but gradually grew bolder, eventually making him emit a groan in satisfaction before he could stop himself. She tensed at this and pulled back, blinking to clear away the overwhelming heat that had not just befuddled his mind, which had ensnared his very body and soul.

"Forgive me, I should not kiss you like that. Well.. Not yet-" Again she would not allow him to finish and silenced his apology by leaning forward and placing her mouth on his, stealing his breath and words. Thorin responded with equal passion now he could feel in the way her lips clung to his that she wanted to assure herself as much as he did that all of this was real. _But by Mahal it was_.. It _was_ real. And he could not now recall anything in his life ever to have felt quite this real…or quite this _good_..

* * *

Edúr savored the taste of his lips on her own for the new experience that it was, for the tangible proof she craved to finally realize this was truly happening, and it was more than difficult to retreat from it. But when she eventually did, she remained close, face but an inch from Thorin's, if only because she now no longer had to fight against the pull she had been feeling towards him for so long without even knowing it. And now.. Now it felt so immensely liberating to be able to give in to it, to allow her feelings to blossom. In his presence, more specifically in his embrace, nothing could feel more right. She hardly recognized herself after the evening's revelations, it was as if a different part in her which she had kept from the light because she feared it would not survive with only her fragile hope had now awakened. And she knew it would never be dormant again. Least of all while she was in the arms of the dwarven king that had effectively stolen her heart..

She rested her tilted head in her hand, elbow propped up on the back of the sofa, the other reaching out and gingerly clasping around his tunic's high collars, "You are my One.."

Thorin instantly smiled at her solemn statement that somehow contained a hint of questioning surprise, "Why does that make you frown?" He half-teased and she felt a grumbling laugh rumble under her hand clutching the sapphire blue fabric. The sound made her spine tingle again, just as it had done not too long ago and she could only just resist the urge to kiss him there and then. Instead she answered his grin with her own, furrowed brows dissolving in an instant. She leaned back a little, taking deep, soft intakes of breath as she gazed in his deep gray eyes. Steadily she felt her heartbeat resuming its normal pace, her blood rushed a little less through her veins although she could not stop herself from taking delight in riding out the waves of longing to be even closer to him than she already was. It again made her momentarily feel a stranger to herself, she had never considered this would be in her future. She had always been convinced her fate would be so much bleaker. She had accepted her life was tied to that of her clan, that one day she would lead it with every chance she would ultimately not be able to save it from its terrible but inevitable doom.

"So we are going.." She spoke her thoughts out loud now they had returned to that one decision. A decision she had been waiting for and not knowing when or if she would be able to go had drained her though now that she did know she felt even more exhausted. Thorin's expression had grown gradually more earnest too as if he had effortlessly followed her line of thinking.

"I would tell you not to be afraid but then you would not be. How could you? You saw me for who I am, and did not desert me. You stayed.. You were willing to face death on my behalf.. Never would I have you do that again, but never will I also forget that you did. It is time to complete the task that has rested on your shoulders for too long already." He told her, the back of his index finger brushing the sensitive part under her chin, the one ring on it cold against her heated skin as a tremor ran through her with the slow movement.

"Now that we are to go, I do not fear our enemy. But I _am_ scared.."

"Of what you'll find in your keep?"

She felt tears pricking in the corner of her eyes and it took her considerable effort to force out the word, "Yes.."

"Whatever awaits us there, we will face it together." All she could do was nod at him, a myriad of feelings too overwhelming coursing through her body. And then they all seemed to spike when Thorin's eyes glinted with determination. He reached inside his tunic and she caught a glimpse of something that glittered a pure silver in his palm.

"Edúr.." His baritone voice alone made her tremble a bit and she looked from the bead in his hands back to his eyes, the pride and love that had gathered there robbing her of her breath, "I know this is probably not the right moment and _Mahal_ knows I have not observed tradition very diligently this evening, but believe me that I fully intended to give you this before I said all those things. Before.. Before I kissed you." He seemed lost in that particular memory for a moment, making her own heart skip another beat now that she had recognized the sign of her House on the bead he was offering to her. _A courting bead_..

"I will not ask you to wear it in your hair now. I cannot. Not now it is not certain how we will fare in the north and if I do not return you should be free." She opened her mouth to protest but Thorin silenced her with a finger soothingly rubbing her lips, "When we get back I would be honored if you would allow me to braid it in your hair."

Edúr cast her eyes down, threatening to be overcome both by the surge of happiness and the apprehension that came with the prospect of the danger they would be heading towards soon. She inclined her head, a reverent dip of the chin she knew he would know the meaning of. Edúr could hear his sigh of relief and contentment, making her look up at him again, this time not failing to find her voice, "And we will return. Both of us."

"Aye. We will." Thorin pledged, taking her hand and placing the bead in it, it felt cool and yet wonderfully warm at the same time, the small weight of it in her palm pleasing her beyond measure. Edúr closed her fingers around it then bent forward to find her shoes under the layers of her simple dress. Not immediately understanding Thorin nevertheless patiently waited for her to straighten again not much later with a shoelace in her hand.

"If I cannot it wear it in my hair you cannot forbid me to keep it close in a different manner." She explained, looping it carefully through the bead.

"I would not dream of it." Thorin huffed out an amused laugh, eying her efforts with a fondness that softened his face, the sight nearly making her fingers tangle with the knot she was trying to make, "though a mere leather string for a necklace seems hardly fitting for the future queen of Erebor."

"It will serve its purpose." Edúr countered though hardly aware of what it was she said now the meaning of his words truly sank in. _Courting Thorin, courting a King meant_.. _One day she might be_..

"Allow me." Thorin's voice nearby made her stir again when he reached out and took over her task. He calmly finished the knot for her, eyes glancing in her direction now and then and she knew he was pondering on what the future could hold too. She did not really know what to say, it was all so much to take in and with everything that might happen now they were to face Gundabad, it felt like she- That _they_ would be tempting fate by saying it out loud. By talking about marriage when so much could still go wrong, when many hurdles might well have to be taken yet.

Thorin held out the makeshift necklace, bead dangling in all its shiny, carved perfection from it. As he lifted it over her bent head the reassuring look he give her made her worries temporarily lose the power they were threatening to have over her.

"Sleep.." He commanded her softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Thorin made to rise but Edúr instinctively held him back with her hand holding on to his tunic. One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-hidden smile before he compliantly sank back next to her. She pried off her shoes, pulling her legs up to rest under her as she made herself comfortable against his chest. Thorin leaned backwards into the sofa seemingly not minding in the least that it was to be his bed for the night too as he held her tight and closed his eyes.

She was still frightened of what the following day or the next, or even more so the ones after would bring, but right now, lying in his arms, listening to the steady beating of Thorin's heart and his deep, slowing breathing, Edúr felt more at peace than she ever had before..

* * *

Thanks for reading & let me know what you thought! 3

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 **A/N:** Ok everyone, hope you got your passports ready 'cause we've arrived in lovey-dovey country! Yaaaaaaay! My favorite destination! Haha hope it wasn't too mushy but I can hardly believe myself we've actually and finally gotten to this point in the story where they no longer have to hide their feelings, definitely not when they're on their own in any case, and seeing the trip to Gundabad is going to be far from fun I couldn't help but (over)indulge myself a little with some good old fashioned smooching and cuddling, not sure when I'll stop doing that, if ever…hope you guys don't mind hihi ;)

 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _Zimrith ib-bekan ra inkhith id-utrâd! Igritu zû!_ _= Sound the alarm!_ Summon the guard! Do it now! (Thanks to David Salo for the translation of this!)

 _kurdu-ê = my heart_

 _As always, all the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the extensive website/dictionary of the brilliant Dwarrow Scholar! :)_


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, what can I say…RL got in the way (that rhymes, ha! ;) Huge thank you to new followers, to those who faved and of course for your lovely reviews! Hope you enjoy~**

 **Julia:** Thank you so much for your reviews! Reading them brought a huge smile on my face! :D Your super kind words about my writing style/characterizations inspire me to continue doing my best writing this story. I really appreciate the fact that you reviewed even though you usually don't do this very often, your English is really good so please don't feel insecure about that! :) I hope you're feeling much better now, although I'm glad that when you were ill you chose to read this story, such an honor! ;) Thank you also for letting me know that even though it's a slow-burn kind of romance story you still thought it was well-paced and entertaining, that's always a challenge for me when I write so your feedback helps me a lot in that regard. And I feel sad for Dís too, it's why I wanted to include her story too, she's Thorin's sister after all and therefore an important person to him. I wasn't sure how to portray Thorin suffering from gold sickness in a way that would make it seem realistic and the same goes for his growing and changing relationship with Edúr, I'm so glad you thought I managed to describe that okay. I really hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story too because there's still a lot of things that will happen (including lovey-dovey moments hihi ;p) and thank you again for reviewing!

 **Angie:** Yippie! It always makes me happy to make your day! :D Because they have been so stubborn in admitting their feelings for so long I feel I need to get used to the fact that they can now openly show it to each other but I'm really enjoying writing that and I'm glad you think they're sweet together! Of course the story revolves mostly around Thorin/Edúr especially now they're unofficially together but I wanted to include those that they care about like Dís/Balin/Dwalin too, and I couldn't resist having Dís give that order and Dwalin to tease Thorin a bit hihi ;) I loved writing the courting bead scene so thank you for saying you liked it and for reviewing!

 **Robinbird79:** Roger, roger! I'll consider that an order to continue overindulging in the lovey-doveyness department then ;) Glad you liked the flow, the fact that they've now fessed up about their feelings has me fumbling around to change gears and go from stubborn denial to smooching and I want that to be gradual and plausible...but of course that doesn't mean they can't cuddle in the time it takes me to get used to their new relationship hihi ;p Yes, I wanted to show Thorin has come a long way what with the dragon sickness and everything and he's gained some wisdom along the way especially where knowing Edúr is concerned and respecting her for who she is, and I guess the fact they can exchange that banter hopefully shows their mutual respect makes that possible, but I always find it a little tricky to sense what kind of humor is 'middle earthy' enough and what would be too modern and sassy haha Anyways, I'm super happy I'm not the only one to have loled over the being chained to Dwalin remark and thanks for your review! ;)

 **SilverGhostKitsune:** Thank you! Glad you liked it! :D

 **Sophia Kaiba:** Yes, Thorin survived and barring that little scratch he's not injured, I couldn't do that to Edúr of course! :D Thanks for reviewing, here's the next chapter!

 **Amadeusan:** I agree 100% with you, romantic moments with Thorin can never be to mushy! ;p Thank you for leaving me a review!

 **Joslyn:** (Even though you reviewed for chapter 29 I hope you'll read this!) Thanks for your positive feedback, reading it motivates me and I really appreciate it! Makes me totally happy to know you didn't feel you wanted to skip to the smooching bit, I know I had to exert some self-control not to skip to it when I wrote it haha ;) And I'll definitely keep writing, I promise! :D

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 **Disclaimer:** Nope. Still don't own the Hobbit.. Y'all know who do! ;)

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 **Chapter XXXI**

 **THERE** was such a serenity to the smooth lines of her face, to the way her eyelids screened those radiant blue orbs, lashes hovering close above ivory skin, that Thorin could not bring himself to wake her. Instead he allowed himself to forget about time passing in its usual unforgiving pace, something that seemed to happen whenever he had been in her presence anyway, and simply watched how her shoulders slowly rose and fell along with the steady rhythm of his own breathing, how one foot peeped out from under his robe still draped over the two of them and how her arm was loosely bent around his middle, hand not having released its hold on his tunic. Whatever may happen next, and one outcome truly made his heart clench, he knew he would always treasure this moment. He would remember every detail, every scent and sound, the feeling of her weight against him and above all the sight of Edúr lying half entangled with his own body in her quiet sleep.

The soft rustle of fabric and shuffle of feet only woke him from his reverie when Dís had already appeared in his line of vision, making enough noise to announce her coming and yet eyes discretely set on the hearth that must have been lit by a servant earlier. Apparently he had dozed off again in his blissful musing for he had not noticed it nor the brightening of visible slivers of the sky outside.

"Forgive me for disturbing your sleep," Dís remarked in a soft voice once she had chanced an inquisitive glance in their direction as he knew she would and saw his eyes were now wide open, "but then I had not expected to find you here. _Both_ of you." She added with a meaningful nudge of her chin in Edúr's direction.

"I very much doubt you entered this room just now with any other purpose but to find us here. _Both_ of us." Thorin countered smartly, gleaning the truth from the telling, gleeful sparkling in her gray eyes. She narrowed them in delight, crow's feet around her eyes wrinkling her skin as she poked the fire, careful not to make a sound. He tried to raised himself slowly but his attempt to sit straighter was instantly met by his sister's remonstrating hushing. "Don't move. You will wake her when there is no need, it is still early after all."

Apart from knowing how unwise it would be to disobey her, Thorin more than happily obliged in this instance. He gladly sagged against the sofa and let his gaze roam over the dwarrowmaiden in his arms, thankful that his hand holding one of hers was covered by his long robe and he relished this unseen warmth and touch of her skin.

"I take it you have offered her that bead you were clutching so tightly for the duration of the ceremony?" Dís eventually broke the comfortable silence, eyes traveling from the flames to his own. _Nothing ever did escape her notice, it would seem_. Thorin wondered why that still managed to surprise him.

"I have." He told her solemnly, the temptation to trace that makeshift necklace where it rested on her collarbone surging when he spotted it half tangled with her amber hair.

"And she accepted." Dis stated more than asked, pulling his attention back to her. His nod released a heartfelt smile to form on her lips while his only just resisted the impulse, fearing he would never be able to chase it away again for feels so strong as it tugs at the corners of his mouth.

At that moment Edúr stirred slightly and he could feel her slowly waking up in his arms, fingers furrowing in the folds of his tunic and the strands of his hair that cascade over it.

"I will leave you," Dís announced in a whisper, making to go but placing her hand on his shoulder as she was level with the sofa, pausing her departure, "I am truly happy for you, _nadad_."

"And I am thankful for it, _nana_ '. _Mahal_ has given me the greatest gift to have you as my sister." He suspected the same tears to gleam in his own eyes when Dís swallowed down a lump in her throat.

"And now he has given you one even greater." She spoke softly, casting the still half sleeping form resting in his embrace a meaningful look before squeezing his shoulder with affection and continue on her way out. Thorin increased his hold for a moment, pressing a kiss on the crown of Edúr's head before she sluggishly lifted it, blue eyes meeting his and the sight instantly freed the smile that had still pulled at his lips. She blinked back at him, dimples in her cheeks before she retreated a little to self-consciously stifle a yawn.

"Sleep well?" He queried although knowing the answer for he would have woken the moment she had been restless in his embrace or should her weight against his chest have left him. The realization leaves him a little stunned with a sensation close to sheer rapture. She might have rested in a similar manner and with the same closeness on Ravenhill, but they had not woken up together then. They had not admitted their feelings then. And it made him all the more aware now how it was the type of intimacy they would hopefully be able to share every morning in the near future.

Edúr nodded, eyes still sleep filled and expression halfway between drowsy and awake. "And you? I am sorry I must have made it nearly impossible for you to get any sleep." She started to apologize as she sat up and pulled out of his embrace but he would not let her express a regret that had never been so needless.

"It has been a long time since I slept this soundly. Makes me wish the courting rules of our race were not quite so… _restrictive_." He admitted honestly, a tinge of embarrassment at his own candidness.

She chuckled softly at this and he thought he could detect a slight blush too as she suggested with downcast eyes, "You are King. Surely you could change them."

"Maybe I should. If only so we can keep our guestrooms free for more important stray visitors now this sofa seems quite sufficient to meet our needs."

He could not stop smiling when this made Edúr very unsuccessfully try to stifle a laugh and she hastily slipped out of the nest they had made for themselves to tiptoe to the warmth of the fire instead, her back turned towards him to better hide her mirth from him that way. Thorin got to his feet too, purposefully ambling towards the narrow slit for a window now he felt himself in dire need of fresh air to cool his thoughts that had taken a turn they really should not take. He _was_ King, that meant he needed to set an example for his people, rashly giving in to his passions would not do, no matter how much they seemed to fuel both his words and actions of late. But by _Mahal_ he could never have anticipated just how difficult that challenge might prove to be..!

* * *

Like it had done that week before their duel took place, something that seemed to have happened in a different life, time moved once again excruciatingly slow and yet eerily fast since the decision to go to Gundabad had been made. Although she was kept constantly busy Edúr could not help but feel that every day came and went without her having any control over their pace nor their inevitable passing. She had spent hours convening with the Council and she was grateful to Thorin for involving herself and her cousin in constructing an effective strategy to not only deal with their enemy but also to take the best possible route to their destination far north. After all, it was hostile territory at the best of times and now, with winter only just releasing its icy grip on the landscape around Erebor it would still be a force to be reckoned with.

Although it was only logical that her and Niam's knowledge of the area and their lifelong experience in covertly traveling through it was now called upon, Edúr knew that especially her introduction to the members of the Council was more than that. One glance at Thorin's meaningful and supportive expression during the first meeting had told her it was also a chance for her to connect the faces with the names she had heard others mention but never talked to herself for there might come a day she would work with these dwarves more closely and in a very different role regardless of the fact they were not aware of this yet.

If she was honest she found herself surprised that the Council was made up out of more than the wizened and sagely dwarves she had expected to be on it. There were younger ones too, all either from good families or excelling in their specific crafts and representing the guilds they belonged to. Although it was rare for the entire Council to gather, the few days she spent in the company of its most prominent members already gave her an idea as to just how much larger and grander Erebor was compared to her clan's keep. How much more complicated its politics were too.

Her father, like her grandfather before him, had kept council with only a handful of dwarves, most of those the commanders of their warriors. With survival and secrecy intricately interwoven there had been so few who had practiced any profession that did not directly have to do with those two. There had been no traders and merchants, no miners or carvers except for those needed to maintain the keep's humble halls, but instead most families had abandoned what skills they had used in their old lives and exchanged them for new ones like foraging for and preserving food, developing weapons and armor better suited to the environment and stealth as well as inventing a more abridged version of _iglishmêk_ solely to quickly relay messages between scouts and groups of warriors.

What had struck her even more than the variety of members on the King's Council, however, were the twenty or so Dwarrowdam warriors she had sparred with most of her early mornings and late evenings. It was extremely rare for their race to allow such a thing seeing Dwarrowdams were so scarce and therefore beyond precious to Dwarrows, but some came from powerful military families with longstanding traditions of training all firstborns to become the mighty warriors either their father or mother had been. Most of these came from the Iron Hills, perhaps the fiercest of all Dwarven Clans, but some had fled Erebor and resided in the Blue Mountains until it was time to return home at last. Knowing her own Clan's situation had been peculiar to say the least in having a Dwarrowdam as heir to their leader's title as well as a fourth of their warriors being female out of sheer necessity alone, Edúr had resigned herself to meet scowls and frowns for so openly declaring to enter battle herself. Now that she was not to be the only one she wanted to familiarize herself with their style as best as she could in such a short time, it was after all an honor to fight along side them.

Whenever she had been able to spare a minute, Edúr had found the nearest window, often no more than slits in the rocky outer layer of the Mountain, to glance up at the sky and down at the valley below. There was still snow covering the land but the few clouds that drifted by did not threaten more to fall. What was more, compared to the last time she had looked outside the thaw had visibly set in. Relieved and anxious at the same time Edúr leaned back from the window, the cold air making the tip of her nose tingle now it was again exposed to the warmth inside. She rejoined the throng of dwarves still streaming out of the Gallery of the Kings and hastened to the Council Chamber to find Thorin, it was where he was most of the time these days.

Her mouth quirked with a smile the moment Edúr pushed open the door and saw the dwarf she had been hoping to see standing almost on tiptoes and peeking out of the window much like she herself had done not too long ago. Apparently she was not the only one to have developed this habit of eying the weather in both trepidation and eagerness. Immersed in staring at the horizon and read and reread all the signs he could detect that the winter really was retreating he had not heard the protesting creaking of the wood as the door now closed behind her again. Edúr silently went over to him, not speaking until she had neared him to within one step. "Careful, it is still cold enough to turn your nose to ice."

Thorin's shoulders tensed with a jerking movement before he let out an audible sigh and instantly relaxed his stiffened posture again when he recognized her voice. He slowly turned around, crossing his arms as if in remonstrance and cocking a brow, "I believe that would be a bigger disadvantage to you than it would be to me."

He closed the distance between them, uncrossing his arms so one hand could snake around her waist, the other tilting her chin up and her head backwards before he gave her a loving kiss in greeting, rubbing his nose briefly against hers too when he pulled back.

"Yours is like fire." He told her with a corner of his mouth subtly lifted as he added, "It has the color of it too.."

Edúr huffed out a short laugh in response although his remark made her blush lightly in spite of herself, "Then I must be guilty of the same crime as you, trying to read the weather when we should no doubt leave that to those to whom it actually _is_ legible."

"Speak for yourself, I am less blind to the changes between seasons than you suppose." Thorin countered, feigning indignation that was wholly undermined by the grin he flashed her before guiding her to the armchair near the fire.

"I am glad to hear it for you would then undoubtedly be able to tell me what it is I did not see myself." Edúr allowed him his little victory gladly, sinking down in the comfortable embrace of the warmed chair. Instead of sitting down in the one opposite it, placed snugly in the other corner of the thick rug, Thorin remained standing, positioning himself half between her and the hearth to shield her from the glare of the blazing fire, one foot on the rim of marble around the grate, one hand resting on the angular wing of the chair.

"My advisors tell me that the wind has become less severe, and the sun is at last gaining strength and warming the frozen ground." He reported rather dutifully, making her hide a smile behind her hand, the back of it covering her mouth now her elbow was planted on the broad armrest.

"How much longer?" She nevertheless queried in an earnest voice.

It took Thorin a moment in which he gazed pensively and somewhat conflicted into the flames before he lowered it and then faced her, "A day. Two at most."

She could only nod at his sober tone, their eyes remaining locked and in that one long look they shared the implication and what it could entail was clearer than words could express. Eventually she reached out to him and he did not hesitate to take her hand in his own, holding them close to his body and rubbing his thumb soothingly over her knuckles. The silence between them may not completely dispel the worry she felt at what was to come, it did assuage it enough to have her let go of the haunting images that had been before her eyes whenever she had closed them this week. Images of things she wished, she _begged_ , would never come to pass..

"That was impressive. Earlier." Edúr said after a while, mind wandering back to the Remembrance Ritual she had attended in the Gallery of Kings, in fact it had occupied her thoughts so much it had taken a lot longer than usual to connect what her senses perceived through the window to what was replaying in her head. The warriors who had not survived the attack in the tunnel from Ravenhill and Moss Garden had been buried yesterday and this afternoon the King had called all families who had lost someone to him to honor their memory. Despite a life of strife and death that had perhaps hardened her, it had not been less moving to witness how dwarves wailed and cried in their mourning and watch how Thorin had carved the first name on the Wall of the Fallen behind the Throne to be forever set in stone. The sight of the deep green, huge, polished slate covered in countless runes had made a chill run down her spine, not knowing those that belonged to the names but realizing how all of them had perished since the day Smaug had ransacked Erebor until it had been retaken after the Battle of the Five Armies. _And there would be more bloodshed before peace could truly return to these lands_..

"It is the least I could do. Though I hope that one day it will be a duty I no longer have to perform. There's been so much loss.. My people have lost _so_ much.."

Edúr looked up, his raw voice pulling her from her gloom. The lines in Thorin's face had hardened and his jaw was set, eyes shifting, their cold gray hardly warmed by the fire reflected in them. Seeing him this vulnerable made her heart clench in both sadness and happiness at the same time. It was hard to see him suffer and not yet knowing how but wanting to take that away from him above all else. And yet, it also filled her with an intense gladness that he would not mask how he truly felt in her presence.

She squeezed his hand in support and pulled it to her so she could hold it in both of hers as she pressed her cheek against the back of his, warm skin glowing against her own, "They have also gained more than they could have hoped for after everything that has befallen them. They have gained a King more than worthy of the crown he wears." She could hear him take in a sharp breath and tighten his grasp to steady himself.

"Do not forget how much you have also given to your people. How much you have given _me_." Edúr whispered the last part, not able to resist the urge to press a kiss on his knuckles afterwards, lips grazing the rings he wore. Too overcome or simply not knowing what to say, Thorin instead sank to one knee and returned a kiss on the back of her hand, holding it pressed against his lips as he stared back into her eyes, his own no longer wavering but reverted back to those strong, fixed puddles of gray.

* * *

Balin and himself had barely set foot inside the Main Chamber belonging to the House of Agor on the South Wing when Niam stalked passed, managing no more than a stiff and terse bow at them before the door shut behind him with a harsh and resounding thud. Thorin gaze instinctively latched onto the somewhat hunched over shape of Edúr as she stood forlorn in the center of the spacious room, one hand rubbing her forehead, the other balled up into a fist at her side. He carefully approached with Balin in his wake, announcing both of their presence with a soft scraping of the back of his throat.

"Do you wish us to leave?" He probed, wanting to do anything but to abandon her now she was obviously upset and he gladly followed it up with another question when she remained silent but shook her head, "Should we bring your cousin back-"

"No." Came her quick and determined answer at last. Visibly fighting to regain composure she then dropped her hand from her face and used it to brush back her hair, tucking it behind her ear as she said despondently, "It would serve no purpose. Not now I am the last person he will listen to, his anger won't let him. And I cannot blame him for that.."

"What has happened?" Balin asked with his usual kind and sympathetic tone. Edúr let out a sigh, not in unwillingness to confide in them but to find the words it seemed because she motioned for himself and the old dwarf to take a seat and give herself a moment to gather her thoughts. After she had sunk down on the sofa and they had compliantly done the same once she had, Thorin observed her folding and unfolding her hands in her lap until a growing restlessness to anchor her took control of his own and he placed them supportively on hers to still her fidgeting. He didn't need to say anything, the gesture alone gradually made her overcome the internal struggle that had her so tongue tied.

"I had hoped it would not come to this, but he left me with no choice. I respect his wish to join me but he could be the last of.. Should I not return than in all likelihood he _will_ be the last of our Clan. For that reason alone I cannot allow him to come, though that has not made him less adamant to change my mind."

Balin hummed a low hum in understanding, "It is not an easy call to make but as the head of your Clan the decision rests with you. And I am sure that had the situation been reversed he would have acted similarly."

"As would you." Thorin added knowingly, relieved that, however brief, his referring to her own formidable temper made a smile appear to light up her darkened face if only a little.

"True." She admitted, sounding both amused and weary, "Though I cannot help but feel I still haven't learned the lesson my father had been most persistent in teaching me. That it is not only my responsibility to have those I was to lead to follow me, but to tell them to remain behind at times too."

"Aye, that is perhaps the hardest task of all. But you did right. _Truly_." Thorin assured her at her doubting and torn look, "When I last faced a similar choice I acted far less nobly, leaving behind my nephew because I did not want his injury to slow the Company down, forcing his brother to show me what loyalty really meant even if I was too blind to see it at the time, to recognize how their yearning to be at my side as we entered Erebor might have kept me from descending into darkness. You have no such motives and only wish safety and survival for your cousin, it is the reason I should have based my decision on but failed to do."

He swallowed hard to repress the emotions bubbling to the surface as he relived that particularly painful memory that day in Laketown, focusing on the feeling of his hands covering hers instead to keep him in the present moment, "Give him time, your cousin will understand that staying here is fulfilling the duty he owes to you and your people and that it is no less honorable than fighting along side you. Try not to part being in dissonance with one another, I do not wish for you to feel that regret."

Edúr nodded another sigh escaping her but he hoped it was one of tentative resignation and not gnawing guilt. She stirred again only after his words had had a moment to sink in and the following silence had undoubtedly made her aware there must have been something that he and Balin had wanted to tell her.

"This is not what you have come for.." She stated her conclusion out loud, the meaningful look his trusted advisor exchanged with him at this prompting her to ask with a hint of impatience tinging her tone, "What is it?"

After Balin inclined his head respectfully at him, Thorin cleared his throat and turned to look at her directly, "Your raven returned to us not an hour past bearing news. As you know he and a few of Roäc's kin went with him to scout ahead and he seemed to have taken your instructions to heart for he reported this to me rather than you. I sent him off to the Rookery, hoping to find you here and tell you in person."

"Tell me what? What did they find?"

"The passage to Gundabad is watched, like we expected, but it is clear."

"And the river Greylin?" She pressed him but in a subdued and slightly wary tone.

It cost him considerable effort to have his voice remain steady for he knew she would understand his meaning instantly, "The ice is breaking up but the river is not yet swelling with the thawing snow from the Gray Mountains."

Edúr blinked once, eyelashes fluttering as his words sank in, before she said tense but resolved, "Then the moment has come.."

He nodded solemnly, "We leave on the morrow."

* * *

The perfectly interlinked rings emitted their distinctive sound as she made her way from the very core of the Lonely Mountain to the Gate Room, but the slight ringing of the knee length hauberk made of bronze chainmail was mostly muffled by the sleeveless jerkin and vambraces she wore over it, both fashioned out of the same dark, brown leather of her fur lined boots. It had been sweltering hot in the forges and so she could still feel the metal glow warmly on her body, including the layered, leather pauldrons she had donned a thick travel cloak over, both of which had also soaked in the heat of the fires in Nori's smithery. Edúr ran an appreciative hand over the metal rings covering her upper body as they gleamed their deep coppery tint in the lights of lanterns burning in the hallways to lift the sullen glum that hung there.

She chanced a sideways glance at her cousin, at the tired lines in his young face and the unmistakable pride that glinted in his bright blue eyes. He had worked so hard on making her this chain mail and his gift meant more to her than she could ever hope to put into words. Late last night she had left her bedchamber, sleep was evading her grasp for too many reasons anyway, and looked for her cousin in one of the workshops where he usually was to be found. Thorin's advice and her own desire to say goodbye in friendship and not leave with hostility between them had urged her to make amends. The more thankful had she been to find Niam working through the night with the other smiths to finish the new weapons and armor necessary to equip all the warriors that were to go.

In the end it hadn't taken long to break through his uncharacteristic reticence and anger at being forbidden to follow her. There was still strong feeling and objection but on the eve of going it did no longer matter, she knew he would have come to the very end with her and that gave her courage enough to face whatever lay ahead without him and for him to accept he was to stay. To Edúr it was a comfort to know that regardless of what may happen he would have his new life here in Erebor..

Ascending the final steps of a steep and long stairway Edúr preceded him into the Gate Room which was packed with dwarves organized in units and those weaving through their ranks to see to any last minute preparations, all waiting to either send off or set out. Near the entrance she already caught a glimpse of the armored Dwarrowdams she was assigned to lead, breastplates and spears glimmering dully in the soft light of an early day that stole inside through the opened gates.

Niam halted next to her, lower arm placed under hers, anchoring both of them to each other as their hands closed around their bent elbows, " _Insis_ , _iraknana_ '.."

She nodded, sealing her promise to him and remembering vividly how her cousin had showed himself willing to forgive her for the decision she had had to make by offering her the hauberk and help her put it on, a ritual they had performed countless times in another life, another world. A world she was now to return to..

" _Ra astû ya_." Edúr answered him, then swallowed down a lump in her throat before adding, " _Ma-birâshgum mafablabul damâm-ê_ "

Niam visibly struggled to contain his tears to as he instantly recognized the customary farewell spoken whenever warriors would have left their keep in order to defend it. He increased his grip on her arm, jaw set as he gathered the strength needed to utter the fixed reply to it, " _Amrâd-zi mukhu asgun kayâl-mâ_."

She patted his shoulder once before their hold on each other loosened and Edúr made to join the King, his handful of captains, Dwalin, Balin and Dís while Niam took his place between Bombur and Freya who stood in a row behind them. Of the Company Bofur, Ori and Bifur would join them on their mission far North, the first for his mining skill they would rely on in a later stage of their attack strategy, the young dwarf because he volunteered to be the scribe to record the events seeing he was the expert in this regard though Edúr suspected it was his friendship to her as well that had him offer his services, and the latter out of loyalty when they had worked together with the repairs of the South Wing. It was humbling to say the least that these three dwarves, although not being her kin, were willing to head into danger and she respected them all the more for it now they harbored exactly that on her behalf when she wasn't sure yet she deserved it.

Her respectful bows to Balin and Dís –both leaning on the other for support it seemed- were returned in equal fashion and the proud and strengthening look that Thorin gave her when she at last stepped up to him was perhaps the most incentive of all in making her even more determined to pay back everyone's trust in her –above all _his_ faith in her- in doing her utmost to fulfill her role to all these dwarves who would follow the newcomer amongst them to her secret and forgotten keep, destroyed as it was likely to be too, to face an enemy they mainly had her word for that still lurked there.

Edúr accepted Thorin's hand to help her mount her goat, not immediately letting his gloved fingers slip from hers and casting a look around after she tore her eyes away from his deep gray ones, feeling that rare sense of pride when every warrior that looked back was ready to follow her. Follow her and the King she loved with them..

* * *

Thanks for reading and as always I appreciate all the feedback, your reviews make my day! :D

* * *

 **Khuzdul translations:**

 _nadad_ = brother

 _nana'_ = sister

 _iglishmêk_ = Dwarven sign language

" _Insis_ , _iraknana_ '.." = "Be safe, cousin.."

" _Ra astû ya_." = "And you also."

" _Ma-birâshgum mafablabul damâm-ê_ " = "Don't regret my spilled blood."

" _Amrâd-zi mukhu asgun kayâl-mâ_." = "Your death will lengthen our lives."

 _As always, all the credit for the parts in Khuzdul go to the extensive website/dictionary of the brilliant Dwarrow Scholar! :)_


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: I can't possibly express just how sorry I am about the incredibly late update! I've had a lot to deal with recently but I'll never leave this story unfinished! I want to thank everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story from the bottom of my heart, for each and every one of those notifications in my mailbox helped me to slowly but surely get back to writing, really, your support means the world to me! The good news is that I'm ready to get back on track and feel more inspired than ever to complete this story, I originally planned for it to end a handful of chapters away and very differently but I revised the plot because there's still so much I want to cover with it and I'm only now discovering what's going to happen next. I'm so excited about what's still coming up and I sincerely hope you'll stick with Thorin and Edúr for a while yet! ;) **

**Sophia Kaiba** : Even though it took a lot longer than I had wanted it to, they're finally off to Gundabad indeed! Thank you for another wonderful review and I hope you're still going to read on!

 **Robinbird79** : Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer and I really hope you're still interested in this story seeing I've always valued your feedback!

 **Julia** : Thank you for your wonderful review! I'm super glad you like the chemistry between Thorin and Edúr, it's what makes me want to write more! :) I'm sorry to have kept you waiting this long but I hope you'll enjoy this chapter regardless!

 **Riss94** : I'm sorry I made you wait for the next chapter for such a long time, I really hope you're still going to read on and see if they make it! thanks for your review!

 **Queen Maria Theresia** : Hey, you wonderful reviewer! ;) Thanks so much for your sweet message, it made me realize how much I missed writing this story and to try harder to get back to it! I appreciate your support! 333

 **Joslyn:** Thank you for giving me that last encouragement that I needed to write this chapter after literally not having opened this story on my laptop for two months… Seriously, a digital hug isn't enough to thank you but I'm going to give you one anyway! 333

 **Disclaimer:** Yeah, so, PJ and Tolkien won't budge and give up their rights…but I'm not giving up, after all, everyone has their price! ;p

* * *

 **Chapter XXXII**

 **THE** river of ink crawled its wandering way across the wrinkled parchment, black blood running through an unseen vein that darkened as light outside waned. One by one his captains trooped out of the tent –their armor emitting a dull clanking– followed by the Company members who had come on this journey. Bofur was still discussing tactics with Bifur, signing emphatically in a rather sloppy _iglishmêk_ , his wild gesturing almost making him knock the charcoal pencil right out of Ori's hand as the scribe added some final notes to the hefty travel log he diligently carried with him. Lastly Dwalin also disappeared through the narrow opening in the thick fabric –a pristine white to blend in with the surrounding snow– after throwing him a reassuring look that he would take care of assigning watch, including ascertaining that he wasn't to be disturbed unless there was urgent cause for it.

Thorin picked up the battered tinderbox from the crate that functioned both as a makeshift table and contained rations –ale and dried meat mostly for especially the former kept them warmer than water though it also agreed more with dwarvish taste buds– making the corner of the weather-stained map curl upwards now the weight was lifted off of it. He took out the flint and firesteel and held both in practiced hands that instantly remembered what to do at the touch. It felt strangely like a relief, nostalgic even, that his muscles instinctively knew what to do after so many years of living on the road that lighting the lantern which hung from the poles making up the hexagonal shaped ceiling of the tent didn't require all of his attention. Not that he would have been able to solely focus on kindling light whether he could perform the task blind or not now he silently observed the one dwarf that hadn't left him yet.

Arms alongside her body and fingers drumming absentmindedly against her thighs, Edúr retraced the same path back and forth across the thin rug laid down to cover the muddy and trodden ground, over and over again. It was difficult to see her growing increasingly restless the more they neared their destination, especially since he knew the source for it and there was precious little he could do to ease it. They had been travelling for three days at a steady pace, encountering no resistance whether it was the retreating winter or any sighting of their enemy. It was almost too quiet, which did nothing for his own peace of mind.

He was growing more impatient as well, preferring to face down Kazad and whatever was left of his Gundabad army instead of having to stalk closer and closer, hoping against hope to remain unseen as long as possible. If the weather held and the condition of the river Greylin was unchanged they would try and cross it tomorrow. Which in turn meant that the day after they would in all likelihood reach her keep if they would continue to go unnoticed. That prospect was enough to rattle his resolve and fuel his trepidation, he couldn't even begin to imagine what Edúr must be feeling. And yet, as impossible a task as it seemed, he knew he should not let this apprehension govern his actions, cloud his judgement. There was too much at stake.

Another spark at last gave birth to a fragile flame which made the oily wick sputter and sizzle with the ignition and glow with increasing warmth. The glass of the lantern was matted and the scratched surface made sure the light inside wouldn't be too bright and add the risk of being seen from a distance. Thorin returned the tinderbox to its spot, his companion's pacing still showing no sign of slowing down.

"Dawn won't come faster that way, you know." he closed the distance between them, not just drawn by the usual pull between them that had only grown stronger and more difficult to resist after their mutual confessions, but also by an instinctual understanding that she needed his support as much as he needed hers. To keep calm. To keep a clear head. To stay strong.

She stopped, only now fully realizing it seemed that the meeting had come to an end already and they were the only two left. "I'm sorry.." her apology became muffled the moment he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing her tightly to his chest. Her body remained a little tense at first but soon she allowed herself to relax a bit in his embrace, eventually letting out a long, surrendering breath. Thorin relished her warmth against him, simply taking in her scent and form in his hands. Then he leaned back and rubbed her arms instead to calm her down some more, evoking an appreciative quirk of her mouth and her blue eyes like water on fire in the soft glow of the lantern. Finally he cupped her face, his index and middle finger glued together on each hand to trace languid circles near her temples. Despite the uncertainty of tomorrow, let alone of the day after that, he felt intensely pleased the simple movements succeeded in chasing away most of her lingering unrest.

Both hands resting on his chest, fingers digging into his tunic with increasing force, Edúr's eyes briefly fluttered closed and she let out a satisfied sigh that was more than enough reward for his efforts to soothe her nerves. It also ignited a powerful jolt to travel up his spine, right to the tip of his fingers which suddenly tingled as they connected with her skin. He was glad she chose that moment to speak for he found himself at a loss for words now his mind was swept blank and his heart was starting to throb louder and louder against his ribs.

"I'm glad you're here. And yet it also fills me with dread that you are."

He retreated his hands, guiding her head to rest on his collarbones and humming his agreement, "I know. It seems we have the exact same thoughts. So that either means you stole mine or I stole yours."

Thorin could feel a soft laugh well up inside of her body, the sound of it pulling at the corner of his mouth when it tumbled out of hers, "Well, seeing mine are both a plague and a comfort at the same time, I would gladly have relinquished them to you."

"You're accusing your king to be a thief then?" He lightheartedly feigned insult, glad he was able to distract not just Edúr but himself as well.

"The way I see it this king just admitted to the crime himself." she answered wisely, finger meaningfully tapping his chest.

"Point taken. Very well, I won't try you for treason. This time, mind you. If I alone could carry the burden and blessing of facing our enemy together, than I would. I just hope that once this is over that will be the end of that unsettling paradox, of feeling so incredibly happy and yet so scared." his words were initially met with silence and he inwardly remonstrated himself that he steered them right back in treacherous waters just when he had congratulated himself on their momentary escape from those worrisome currents.

"Yes. As do I." Edúr circled her arms around his waist, hands linking at his lower back as if to anchor herself that way and tilting her head back to look at him, "In that light it would best if you abdicate upon return. Might be the only way."

He gratefully latched on to the suggestion that lit up teasing, wistful lights in her eyes, "Give my crown away? I don't know, I got so used to it that I fear I would feel bald without it."

She leaned back more, raising a questioning brow and releasing one hand to have her fingers rake through a strand of his long hair, "Somehow I doubt the truth of that."

His rumbling laugh got punctured by grumpy sounding caws and a split second later Morkai, forgotten by the two dwarves, swooped down from his perch in the tent's canopy. To both their surprise the raven flitted over to rest on Thorin's shoulders instead of taking up his usual spot on that of hers.

"It seems he has finally taking a liking to you then." Edúr concluded, endearment clear in her tone, "It is not often he changes initial hostility to affection."

"Not unlike someone I know.." he quipped, stroking across Morkai's beak so he emitted a purring-like gurgling.

"And who might that be?" Edúr crossed her arms, taking a step backward though her frown was far from convincing.

"A certain Dwarrow maiden from the north, fierce and proud."

"Bound to clash with a certain fierce and proud king then?"

"Inevitably so, though I am not less fond of those fiery memories as I am of other more recent ones." he said, determinedly closing the small distance between them again.

She didn't move further away, instead tilting her head, chin jutting out a little and standing on tiptoes, as she made to press a kiss on his lips, "Nor I.."

The sounds of many boots stomping passed thwarted their intentions and when they could hear orders being called out in hushed but still loud enough voices Edúr retreated from his reach, leaving him with the longing to take in her taste and the tormenting knowledge that he couldn't.

"I must go." she let him know, regret mingling with amusement.

He grunted his answer rather than put his agreement into words now he felt perhaps childishly moody that she had to leave, adding when an afterthought hit him, "I will escort you."

As he had expected, she responded to this announcement by waving away the need for one but if he could not truly be alone with her at the heart of this crowded camp, after all it had been difficult enough to find a handful of stolen moments amidst the dozens of dwarves these last few days already, than he would not pass up the chance to enjoy her company a few minutes more.

Easily persuaded Edúr nodded, motioning to her raven to change shoulders which he loyally did with a controlled flapping of his wings. Thorin brushed passed them, drawing back the entrance to the tent so they could both step out into the chilly evening.

Because secrecy was of the utmost importance, no torches had been lit except for a few in the handful of tents strewn across camp that remained trapped underneath the fabric, avoiding detection by unfriendly eyes. He himself and the Dwarrowdam warriors were the only ones with a makeshift roof over their heads. Not that Thorin used his other than for meetings. He had always preferred sleeping outside among his warriors. Although he suspected she knew this he had kept silent on this bit of information, not wanting to add to her worries when she already had to carry so many.

It was all but pitch black as they weaved through groups of dwarves clustering together to form oddly shaped shadows, the stars overhead providing the only light to see by. Thorin gladly took it as a reason to stay nearer her side, grateful for the cover of darkness that would prevent anyone from seeing his hand reaching for hers, his fingers curling around hers. They encountered little more than dwarves getting ready to rest or sentinels on their rounds, some only at the last moment realizing who he was and bowing their heads. The almost oppressive silence despite their numbers, the lack of their race's merrymaking, and the fact that even the usual snoring was barely audible made for an unsettling scene no matter how much he understood all of the precautions to conceal their presence and approach. It felt as if this was the first taste he was to get of what life had always been like for the Dwarrow maiden at his side..

He regretted that they reached her tent too soon, robbing him of the chance to voice his thoughts too. Instead they halted, shared a last, long look and then he bid her a wordless goodnight with a reverent dip of his head, gave a last squeeze of her hand, before reluctantly releasing her fingers from his own. The moment Edúr and a drowsily cawing Morkai had disappeared inside the tent, Thorin made his steady way back through camp. He couldn't help wondering what the next day would bring. Though perhaps his thoughts were occupied even more with whether they would first pass through the night preceding it safe and sound..

* * *

The air was crisp and cold in her lungs, her breath a thin, wispy cloud that got torn apart and evaporated almost instantly. Edúr tightened her grasp on the head of the long axe one of the Dwarrowdam warriors had lend her upon her request. The weapon was light and slender compared to usual Dwarvish standard, making it ideal for what she had to do. What everyone was waiting on for her to do. A swift and smooth crossing was what they needed. To avoid detection but above all to not try the patience of the ice too long. It was hazardous and unpredictable to pass this way, even for her when she had had to learn to read any minute movement of a seemingly arrested stream. Being able to read it, though, did not mean she had suddenly gained more confidence in her abilities to remain her balance once she ventured out there. It had always been her cousin that had excelled at running across the ice as if the slippery surface had no effect on him. Or rather he knew how to make it work to his advantage instead of having him flailing clumsily like a newborn raven that had fallen out of its nest. But Niam wasn't here. It was up to her. And yet, despite feeling the urgency to make haste rushing through her veins, she still hadn't moved.

Before her, the frozen river Greylin stretched out in both directions: to the north to their source in the grey mountains, and to the south to merge with the Langwell river to become the Langflood together. It was a sight that was at once familiar and foreign. Her heart was torn by a longing to return home and an instinctual apprehension that told her to turn away and never come back. Everything felt the same. And everything felt irrevocably different. Her restlessness that had been steadily building ebbed away, to be replaced by a strange, almost resigned calm that did little to counter just how scared she was starting to feel. Facing Gundabad instead of waiting for them to strike again and again to kill the dwarf she loved was far less daunting than finding her keep, her people, and see their fate first hand. The fact she still felt hope, despite the time that had passed and the impossibility of any survivors, made her all the more anxious to not let it slip from her wavering grasp now it was dreading its inevitable end, making her tremble with it, with the prospect of not only that loss but one infinitely greater that would inevitably supplant it.

The sucking sound of boots trudging through thawed and slushy snow almost made her startle and loose her grip on the axe head. "I am here."

That was it. Those three words Thorin whispered from behind her was what she needed to push back those paralyzing thoughts to the recesses of her mind. To focus on the here and now. She could feel his hand hover supportively and even briefly touching the small of her back as Thorin stepped closer on the pretext of scrutinizingly eying the river ahead. He relied on her. He trusted her experience to tell them whether it was safe to proceed or find another place to cross. And she would lead the way. _No matter where it would take them_..

She took a determined step forward, lifting the axe she had leaned on and tapping it on the ice with increasing force. Accompanied by the deep _thumps_ and the groans the ice emitted as a result Edúr placed first one boot on it, then made to have the other join it when she felt fingers in the nook of her elbow trying to hold her back.

"Dwalin could go first." Thorin suggested, as he had done several times before, voice low and earnest. It was tempting to give in. To have him pull her back. But she had to do this. If she didn't now, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to go through with it. And so she shook her head, eyes not averting from the opaque mass ahead of her, "I know that last time we found ourselves in a similar position I hardly proved myself skillful on the ice, but I do know what I am doing. And I'm wearing boots more appropriate for the task too. Just.. Hold on to the rope. Nothing can happen."

She placed her hand briefly over his fingers, thumb rubbing his knuckles once before she moved away and he had to let go off her. Edúr threw him a last glance over her shoulder, heart throbbing in her throat, "Don't follow until I say so."

His eyes flitted from left to right and turned an almost misty and far-off gray, concern in them clear as he swallowed down whatever he had wanted to say but could not. Posture betraying his unease, Thorin balled his fists, his jaw clenching when he nodded and wordlessly ordered the handful of warriors to hold on even tighter to the rope in their hands so Edúr felt it go taut where it was bound around her waist.

Not wanting doubt to slip back into her mind she turned her attention back to the challenge before her. Her first tentative steps soon became more determined and certain, instinct kicking in now her world was reduced to the successive _thuds_ of the axe on the ice that guided her forward like the steady beating of a drum. Although she didn't like the odd crack she had already spotted, there were enough white patches where it would bear her weight and would that of the others. At least she had not detected any visible flow of water under the glassy surface but she knew she shouldn't rely on eyesight alone. It was again where the long axe came in. Once she'd ventured far enough from the shoreline, always the ice's thinnest layer, she chipped at the frozen river until there was the splash of water as it gushed a little out of the hole she'd made. Edúr expertly lowered the handle in it, tensing up when it reached the water sooner than she had wanted it to. It was not as thick as she had hoped, but, as long as they crossed in small groups, it would hold them. _It had to_..

She proceeded slowly but surely, knowing that with the thaw having set in this was as good a condition as they could expect. It wasn't like they had much of a choice. There was no bridge for miles, the one at the foot of the grey mountains taking them too far off course and the one further down stream destroyed when she and Niam fled their homeland to warn Erebor all those months ago. All of the conflicting sensations that came flooding back at the memory made it necessary to again steer away from her darkening thoughts and Edúr only just managed to rein in her impatience and instead of hastening to leap onto the other shore continue on in the same, measured pace.

It felt nothing short of betrayal when she neared the edge and could see places where a narrow strip of water streamed south, lapping against the edge of the ice jutting out over it, almost covering the flow were it not for the subtle sound of it and her trained eyes looking out to detect it. The winter in these parts was a merciless adversary, ice perhaps its most sly and treacherous weapon. But it would not stop them. Not now. _They had no choice_..

After she gave the sign to start crossing, it took a nerve-rackingly long time for all of the dwarves to literally follow in her footsteps and reach the other side. One by one, small groups of warriors slid and skidded across the ice, each wearing equally wary expressions. The few goats they had brought with them seemed least disturbed as they effortlessly drew the carts across it though the tired grunts of the ice under their hooves made most of the dwarves even more ill at ease. At long last, everyone had managed to avoid the trap of the thawing shoreline, despite chunks of ice breaking off and hitting the water's surface with a crash before they slowly got eaten up by the stream and sank in it. She had made the journey back and forth a few times to make sure everyone was taking the right path, as much as it could even be called that, until Thorin had insisted she waited for the last of them on the shore.

It was hard not to resume her pacing of last evening now it had all but become habitual to her on this horrible trek to her devastated home. Edúr dug her nails into the palm of her hands and didn't even notice the pain that came with it until Thorin finally reached the rest of them, his boots making contact with the ground having her release the breath she'd unconsciously been holding.

She should've known better than to feel sure of their success when she picked up a single figure in her periphery vision and recognized Ori's small shape burst out of the cluster of dwarves in pursuit of his pencil spinning away and place a hesitant boot back on the ice. Next instant the gap proved to be too big for the young scribe and he slipped, hurling himself forward at the last moment in a reflex that at least saved him from plunging directly into the water. The impact of his fall, however, made a crack underneath his body split the ice, separating a sheet that started to be dragged away by the powerful current.

Panic and fear instantly rippled through the crowd once some realized the danger one of them suddenly found himself in. Thorin's booming voice called after the young dwarf and both Bifur and Bofur rushed forward, the three of them as well as the others closest to the scene desperately gauging which place they could trust to get back on the ice themselves and help Ori.

"Wait! Stop! Don't move! Everyone stay where they are! If too many rush on the ice it will break in more places." Edúr shouted, moving passed the throng of dwarves that despite her warning seemed torn between obeying or ignoring it altogether. Reaching Thorin she was relieved to find he realized the implications of a collective rescue attempt without her having to put into words how it would increase the risk of Ori drifting off quicker and beyond their reach if they gave in to their instinct to hurry over to him.

"What do I need to do?" He asked her, deep tone tinged with a purposeful sort of urgency, body poised to act.

"Trust me." she told him, holding his gaze when his expression gained defiant resolve that battled with his faith in her. She could not afford to lose time waiting, as much as it pained her to cut off the protest he was about the utter, "Dwalin. I'm going to need your axe, and your strength that comes with it."

The hardened warrior standing at his King's side let out a terse grunt and followed without question. Edúr was glad for both Bofur and Bifur stepping up form among the other dwarves to flank Thorin, keep him from going after them.

Carefully the both of them hastened back onto the ice, slipping and sliding on their way to the fissure, sometimes the warrior helping her up when she almost lost her balance, and she occasionally calling him back if he headed for an area too gray to be trusted. They caught up with the ice float moving down stream, the relief of seeing Ori clutch on to it only a momentary respite from the adrenaline making them move faster. Wide-eyed and puffing against the cold water that must be stabbing his half submerged body like daggers, the dwarf let out a croaky cry for help, slipping further off the float in his panic to climb on it.

"Ori! Keep still!" Edúr called out to him, hoping that now his frantic wreathing and thrashing instantly stopped he would be able to hold on just a little bit longer on the edge of the ice float that not only was slippery and wet, but also resembled a crude blade in its shape, able to cut his hands if he slipped any further.

On the shore dwarves were running along too to keep up, their king's self-control and strictest orders the only reason they didn't shout or attempt anything dangerous themselves. Edúr caught a glimpse of Thorin being at the front of the group, pale and silent as he followed their movements on the ice.

Dwalin only needed a few instructions to know what to do. He increased his pace to gain on the ice float then skidded to a halt and waited with an admirable strength of will before, at the right timing, he hacked at it with one powerful stroke. The axe-head got stuck enough for him to keep the float in place and it crashed into the ice he stood on when he hauled it in, every muscle in his body strained as he did. Regardless of his physical strength, the current would soon and inevitably prove too strong even for the sturdy dwarf. _Now it was her turn_..

Crawling closer on hands and knees, Edúr stretched out on her belly as flat as she could, her boots only just on the unmoving mass of ice as she reached for Ori's hand flailing in her direction. It seemed to take an age but in reality it must have been but mere seconds that it took for their fingers to entwine, for their hands to clasp as she gradually pulled him out of the water and off the float. There was a loud sound as if of glass breaking when Dwalin only just managed to retreat his axe and the current, victorious in the display of strength, swept the float away. Together with Dwalin, and accompanied by guiding shouts and calls of encouragement from the shore, she carried Ori to safety.

The scribe was trembling uncontrollably once they had reached the others, his shallow breathing like painful hisses through his chattering teeth. He was wrapped up in the blankets all dwarves hurried to offer and lifted onto a cart where Bofur and Bifur had taken it upon themselves to rub him dry and keep him conscious and alert now he was in danger to succumb to the cold.

"I don't even want to contemplate that we have to return the same way." Thorin said in a low voice as he stood shoulder to shoulder with her, both watching the others take care of the scribe and Dwalin reasserting order and vigilance among the relieved dwarves at his king's gesture.

She leaned closer to his side, the urge to be nearer overwhelming after what had just happened, "Let's hope our enemy's defeat will allows us to take the longer way back. The bridge at the foot of the gray mountains should be safe enough."

"I pray to Mahal it is.." Thorin angled his body towards her as he surveyed their surroundings, eyes traveling from the shore they left to the one they were standing on and beyond, though he hardly seemed to take anything in. A suspicion that was proven right when the pair of gray orbs threatening to sheen over soon locked onto hers and he added in a hoarse whisper, "Just as I also beg you to spare the heart of king that cares for you more than he does for his own life.."

He spoke with such fervor that her courage failed her and she lowered her gaze and swallowed hard, voice stuck in her throat. _As much as she wanted to reassure him, she could not promise him that_..

"We need to find shelter." she instead reminded him of their present predicament, a sense of guilt in not answering him surging through her, but it was foolhardy enough to remain here near the river when orc scouts could be prowling about, and it would also only worsen Ori's condition.

Thorin forced out a throaty and pensive _hmm_ and she could feel his eyes still lingering on her as it took him considerable effort to sift the hurt and concern out of his voice when he spoke, "How far are the ruins of Framsburg?"

"Not too far."

He nodded and made to go but she held him back, hand clutching at the sleeve of his tunic, "We might not be alone in seeking that place for rest and the harbor it offers."

Edúr hated being the harbinger of bad news but the way his shoulders briefly tensed told her he too had remembered what creatures Niam and she had informed him roosted in that old, forgotten place. She glanced up at Thorin, pride shining through his worry and she knew then it really was too late to turn back. To take away the threat Gundabad still posed to the line of Durin, to the King of Erebor, to _Thorin_ …they had to destroy it at its vile source. It was the only way.

He threw one last look at Ori still being nursed and fussed over in the cart, receiving all possible care but obviously needing more to recover, then at her, a determined glint gathering in his eyes though it mingled with a sad pleading, "Will you show me the way?"

Edúr didn't have to think about her answer and simply dipped her chin in confirmation, fingers deliberately tugging at his as she unclenched her hold on his sleeve. Then she balled her hands and stuffed them deep in her pockets against the biting cold, feeling somehow warmed by the closeness of the dwarf falling into step next to her, despite knowing he knew too that the river had been but the first hurdle to take..

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 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought of it! 333


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:** **Wow…I can't believe it's been five months since my last update for this story…I'm so sorry you guys! Writing this chapter I realized just how much I miss working on this story… In order to finish it (and I've still got a lot planned for it) I've decided to go for shorter chapters (roughly 3000 words) because that'll enable me to update weekly/biweekly. I'm sorry that means that I can cover less plot in a single chapter but I don't want to rush through the storyline or compromise on style. I hope everyone agrees with me that short chapters and regular updates beat longer chapters with months in between posting them. In any case, a huge thank you to every single one of you for faving/following/reviewing, hope you're still with me and please enjoy the latest chapter! As always I love getting those reviews and appreciate everyone taking the time to write me one! 333**

Julia: _Thanks so much for your review! I'm sorry I made you wait so long for the next chapter… It means so much to me that you're so positive about this story; that's the best motivation ever! :) Of course I wouldn't dream of separating Thorin and Edúr…but they will have some obstacles ahead of them yet! I hope you'll continue reading what will happen to them!_

Riss94: _Thanks! 333 This time I'm here to stay; promise! :)_

Robinbird79: _Thanks for reviewing! Sorry to worry you but I promise they'll get a break from all this tension…eventually! ;)_

Queen Maria Theresia: _Sorry to keep you waiting so long, hope you'll forgive me! ;) Thanks for reviewing and I promise Ori won't have to go through something like that ever again! Please enjoy the next chapter! 33_

Sparky She-Demon: _Can't thank you enough for your reviews on previous chapters! Hope you'll be reading on! :)_

durinsdaughter2469btw: _Thanks! :D I'll definitely be writing on: hope you'll read on all the way to the end!_

Analina: _Wow, thank you so much for all that praise, you totally made me blush! ;) Sorry for the super late update…hope you still want to read on!_

Sarah March: _Thanks for letting me know you're liking my story so far! I totally grinned in happiness when I read you read it in one go! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter too! 333 (p.s. don't worry about your English; it's perfect!)_

Kfkyle: _And I'm so glad too that you found it! ;) Thanks for reviewing, hope you'll be reading on!_

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 **Disclaimer:** I don't care what the law says, we ALL have a right to write about a certain sexy dwarf king, just try and stop me MGM/PJ/Tolkien! ;)

 **Chapter XXXIII**

 **THE** first ear grating screech rented the air when the black winged creature dove down and discovered too late the trap set for it at the heart of the long ago destroyed town of Framsburg. Already burying its claw like fingers in the rag filled doll it took the bat too long to make up for its mistake. The small fire it had been lured close to provided just enough light for the dwarven warriors lying in wait to strike at it.

Thorin watched with satisfaction how the bat's life was quenched with one powerful stroke of Bofur's mattock. There wasn't time to gloat about the fact that their strategy was going to be effective, however, for the night's sky was filled with moving shadows and eyes glowing a malicious yellow. More bats followed and were taken down in a similar way until the horde swelled and swooped down almost as one dark cloud of wings, fangs and claws.

He instinctively knew there was no longer any point in playing this deadly game of hide and seek. It was time for the next phase. All he could do was hope that this part of the plan would work. That they had not been forced just now to change tactics too soon..

Readying his axe and increasing the hold on his trusted weapon Thorin stepped into the wavering and flickering circle of light, his back to the flames as he fought the enemy plunging down at him. Within moments Dwalin was at his side, probably regretting that he had agreed with this part of the plan for Thorin doubted his old friend had meant for him to fulfill this role instead of the one the warriors still hidden in the shadows performed. But Thorin had never intended to not play the bait. It was bad enough others would have that task as well, but if this way he could take the place of just one dwarf than he gladly did it.

Despite the few fires lit, all around it was so dark that it was nearly impossible to distinguish the contours of a single bat. He only saw them seconds before they were upon him. But he trusted his warriors he knew were around him no matter how invisible. They were there every time bats plummeted from the sky, hammering down on himself and Dwalin fighting at his shoulder, and struck at them after which both warrior and bat was swallowed up again by the night.

A part of him relished the exercise. The opportunity to hone fighting skills that had not left him but that needed to be reawakened. He had to be ready for facing Kazar. He could not and would not let anyone else enter that duel. Fight that fight on his behalf. For he also knew that if he did not claim the right to oppose Kazar, _she_ would...

As often as he could Thorin shot a glance over his shoulder at another fire, no more than a stone's throw away. To his instant worry Edúr had taken up position there together with two Dwarrowdam warriors from the Iron Hills, the remainder of her unit encircling the three of them though they were nothing more than a blur of moving shadows that battled with their counterparts overhead. She deftly withstood the raids raining down upon her too. He could see her deal a deadly blow to one bat which hadn't even reached the ground yet before she snatched the next from the air, one axe piercing its thick wing membrane and bringing it down where she could cleave its chest so it ended up still and motionless like the other dozen bats littering the space around her.

Far from an easy task Thorin tried to put it to the back of his mind how Edúr was exposed in the orange glow of the campfire to the frenzied and fury driven attacks from the bats. He had no choice for he was in the same precarious situation. In fact, the chaotic nature of it made that he was barely able to tell how the battle was faring. At one point warriors were being picked up and tossed through the air in a last desperate attempt by their winged enemy to turn the tide of the battle when it became clear it wasn't in their favor. Anger boiled his blood at this, his heart contracting in agony and regret as he heard the far off cries of dwarves in the dark and the inevitable crushing thuds when they fell to their death.

Doubling his efforts and those around him spurred on to do the same, at long last the swarm of bats thinned until finally the last one found its end by having its head squashed underneath one of Dwalin's metal-plated boots. Or Thorin at least had thought it to be the last one. He swiveled around at a stifled yelp coming from behind him, from the direction Edúr had been fighting. It had not sounded like her though. And one quick glance already told him she was unharmed, staring around her too in search of whoever had gasped in pain like that.

A little further he soon recognized Bofur; a bat hanging from his shoulder. By the looks of it the tenacious creature had sunk its teeth deep in his arm. Thorin rushed over and got there before any of the warriors that had noticed the miner's distress too. With one powerful tug he ripped the bat off of him and threw it on the ground where it landed with a dull smack. It let out a defiant screech but Thorin was deaf to it. He stood on one of the leathery wings to keep the beast in place then with one fell swipe severed its ugly head from its torso so it rolled away like a macabre bloodied and hairy rock.

A healer had sped onto the scene as well by then, stripping back Bofur's sleeve and examining the wound while the miner hissed in pain if he wasn't cursing under his breath. Instinct urged him to trust the healer to be able to treat Bofur while he needed to take stock of the situation. Ascertain that they had defeated all the bats that had called this ruined town home. Organize setting up camp and prioritize those who had been injured. The good news was that most of those wounds were minor and consisted of scratches and cuts on faces.

The worst part was retrieving the dwarves that had died. None of the warriors that had gotten lifted up by the bats and dropped from a dazzling height had survived. Locating all of them in the dark night had been difficult and dangerous but they had succeeded. They had laid them down to temporarily rest in what had once been an inn. Now, it was now nothing more than piles of rubble, broken furniture and tattered, torn rags fluttering in front of glassless windows. There had been no other place suitable. The inn, as dilapidated as it was, was the only building that had retained most of its four walls and roof, even though those were crumbling and full of holes.

Thorin closed the eyes of the last warrior they carried inside, muttering a farewell and a promise that they would return to take home their dead, give them the burial they and the families they left behind deserved. He got to his feet and left, inwardly praying to Mahal the number of casualties would not increase but knowing at the same time that the bigger battle still awaited them.

After assuring himself that the injured had received all possible care that they could give and they and everyone else had found some form of shelter, Thorin stepped out onto the square. It was deserted but for the four dwarves clustering around an old well. Four dwarves he knew well. Even though he had ordered those not on sentinel duty to get a few precious hours of sleep before the sun rose, not everyone it seemed had heeded his instructions.

While he himself stayed up a moment longer to join the guards pacing the ruins in their weary vigilance -attempting to lift their courage whenever he could in gesture or word- he passed the four dwarves on the square regularly, and each time he did so her eyes a deep blue because of the surrounding darkness would flit up to meet his gaze. She still sat there now, an hour or so later, in the same spot, huddled in her mantle, back against what little was left of the old well. Ori was fast asleep next to her, blanket pulled up all the way to his fringe, and Bifur was talking to his cousin in low tones while the latter sometimes paused midsentence and winced at a stab of pain going through his arm.

Thorin sank down next to her, not needing to put his offer into words. Edúr gratefully leaned against him, head tilted so it rested on the back of his slightly hunched shoulders because of the cold. He intuitively searched and quickly found her fingers which had already been reaching for his. Their hands entwined under her mantle, anchoring the both of them in this moment of relative quiet. A safe haven that would not last nearly long enough. But he was determined to revel in the feeling of being close to her.

As anxious as it made him to have seen her fight, risking her life with the crossing of the river and again tonight, Thorin could not help but also be impressed by how she was cooping so far. He felt equally saddened, however, to realize how hard the life was that she had led. Where not only bats but the very terrain, weather, not to mention the proximity of Gundabad were constant threats. It must have been exhausting to always be on the lookout for danger. For discovery. For death… It _was_ exhausting. And she had suffered that fate because of his grandfather. After all, King Thrór had banished her clan to the North. Had sent them to their doom no matter how drawn out or postponed. As much as it pained him, it was too late to help her clan, to beg for their forgiveness. But he would do everything in his power to save Edúr from having to endure such a fate, ever again.

Leaning back his head Thorin stared up at the star strewn sky, his gaze stopped by the enormous skeleton that arched over the square like a roof of weathered bone. It was all that was left of the Dragon Scatha that had come down from the Grey Mountains to wreak havoc on all that lived in the North. The tragic tale was eerily familiar and made Thorin shift uneasily as he inwardly recalled it. It was told that men and dwarves had been enemies because of opposing claims over a treasure hoard that Scatha had amassed until Fram of the House of Eorl killed the beast and founded the town of Framsburg on the very site. Then, despite what should have been the start of a time of peace, Fram would not give the dwarves what they desired from the treasure hoard. What each thought was their own. And so, although both races had already suffered much because of the Dragon, blood had still been shed after its fall. It seemed he had learned nothing from that past. Or had learned too late…

"These bones will perish, you know." Edúr suddenly whispered softly to him. She raised her head slightly and placed her chin on his shoulder, eyes averting from the skeleton looming overhead to look into his instead. "One day they will be but dust that can haunt us no more than shadows can chase us forever."

"They cannot now?" He responded to her solemn wisdom with feigned skepticism. He could feel a puff of air pass her lips, tickling his ear and neck as she huffed back, "The wind will inevitably take care of the first, and when the moon and sun appear in the sky together every year on Durin's Day no shadow can hope to escape their mingling light."

"You have a way with words. Maybe that is how you beguiled me." He told her, rubbing his thumb caringly across her knuckles.

He could not immediately grasp the meaning of the frown that now wrinkled her forehead. Not until she spoke and explained. "I sincerely hope that is not the case for those were my grandfather's words."

Understanding dawned on him instantly and he felt a light rumble in his chest rise up, "Maybe you inherited that talent but it simply remained dormant."

"If that is so, than it must be sleeping very deep indeed." She concurred, mimicking the skepticism he had used earlier to perfection.

A surge of affection welled up inside him at the welcome sight of her eyes flashing ever so briefly and ever so bright. He couldn't refrain from giving in to the desire to press his lips against her scalp and leave them there to follow her hair line caringly, each kiss leaving her cold skin warmer until he was satisfied the warmth had really seeped in.

Edúr let out a grateful and somewhat yearning sigh before lowering her head, truly letting it rest on his collarbone this time. His own chin perching on the crown of her head Thorin stared up at the skeleton overhead again, causing the thoughts that had threatened to plague him earlier return.

"Maybe dragons aren't the real curse. Maybe it is how we let them divide us.." He eventually admitted to her, tone as pensive as he suddenly felt. She stirred against his chest and a moment later he felt how her other, free hand found its way to his heart that started beating louder in response.

"In the end a dragon can also unite different races. Can even bring two dwarves together that have led such different lives and so far apart."

"Are you suggesting I should be grateful to that worm for causing our paths to cross?" He inquired with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, once again her answer and perhaps above all her tone of hope sparking the same sensations within himself. It was liberating to feel this way. Even here, after everything that had happened, she was here, pulling him from darkness.

"No. But Smaug did make us what we are now. And what we could become in the future. We cannot change the past but we can change ourselves." Edúr stated rather sagely, deliberately impervious to his attempt at teasing.

"I'll remember that for when the next Dragon comes along." That finally evoked the genuine smile he had been hoping to coax out of her. He gladly let it run its course, listening to the sound of her soft laugh until it stilled again and she grew silent. But he knew she had not fallen asleep without having to see her face.

"I take it you will not sleep even if I promise to stay awake and watch over you?" He probed futilely, already resigning himself to that truth.

" _Especially_ when you promise to stay awake and watch over me."

"Very well. Then let's stay awake and will this skeleton to perish even quicker together."

"Yes. I could do that.." Edúr whispered back and he felt her lips move against his chest. Pressing her even closer to him and not caring whether a guard would see or not, Thorin hoped with everything he possessed that he was wiser now. That, despite Smaug and the Gold Sickness invading his heart, his love for her and her reciprocation had truly saved him. Now it was his turn to truly protect her.

Neither may have had the power to say it out loud but the way she curled up against him alone indicated how much she dreaded tomorrow. And even though he wished he could do more, right now all he could offer was his silent company. His embrace. His hand squeezing hers as they waited together for the dawn to come. For tomorrow to come. Tomorrow, when they would reach her Keep…

 ***A huge thank you to lotr wikia for that background story on Framsburg and Scatha!***


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